Brother, Dear Brother
by SerpicoCanari
Summary: Erik's twin disfigures him as a child. This brother haunts the backround of Erik's life through letters. Can Rahim, his best friend, pull him out of this toxic fascination with him? If not, it may lead to the destruction of them both when Erik's brother escapes from the Sanitarium- as well as the death of the girl Erik has come to love, Christine. 50/60s America
1. How It Began

Mr. and Mrs. Drice went out to a friend's house for an dinner, a rare and much needed occurrence. It was a nice night, May 15, 1955. They left their twins, Erik and Lysander alone at the house with Nancy, their babysitter. Nancy was also their niece, so she was well aware how dangerous her job was. The Drices left her with specific instructions:

Keep Lysander in eyesight at ALL times  
Lock up purse, valuables, and kitchen knives.  
Don't have Lysander in the same room as Erik  
Erik is not permitted to play music or sing as long as Lysander is awake.  
Strap down Lysander at eight o' clock in his room as you were instructed.  
Inspect Lysander's room.  
Never turn your back to Lysander  
Make sure Erik's room is safely bolted.  
Stay by Lysander's door all night, to make sure he doesn't come out, and keep the gun by you at all times. You are permitted to shoot.  
DO NOT SLEEP  
Have a nice night, call if you have problems.

Nancy sighed. She hated babysitting Lysander, he was a nightmare. Erik, though, was a delight, so it was unfortunate that he had such a monster of a brother. But the job paid _very_ well- One hundred for one night! Her friends were often lucky to get twenty bucks. She would get two hundred if Lysander acted up, but frankly the stress resulting wasn't worth it.

She pulled her blonde hair back into a pony-tail, it was going to be a _long_ night. Nancy was the only one who knew of the true situation of the Drice house-hold, and it wasn't her fault. Lysander had tried to smother her while she was sleeping- she had been eleven, he was four. That was five years ago. Mr. Drice had asked her to never speak to the rest of the family about Lysander, she was old enough to understand why. Everyone would blame him for his son's behavior, saying he couldn't control him, that he was a bad father, that he wasn't fulfilling his duties as a man. That's how people thought these days. Man's responsibility, man's fault. It's why even though her own Mother had boyfriends, her Father didn't dare divorce her, fearing what everyone would say: _"What sorta man are ya, cant even control yer own wife!" _She really hated people sometimes.

Since then her involvement had regrettably grown. When she turned sixteen a few months ago, she now took Erik to his concerts and competitions. At least the Drices had one son to be proud of, even though he didn't play football or baseball like the other boys. After anyone heard Erik play or sing, they never knocked him for not being "like other boys" again. She pitied Erik, who had to share the same face with that horrid monster. Because of Lysander, the Drices never got to watch Erik perform on stage. Even though they were almost identical (they were very similar in looks in spite of only being fraternal twins), she thought Erik was the better looking twin, though undoubtedly it was his goodness that made him so. He was clever, always making little gadgets to show off to her. He made her a ring for her sixteenth birthday, and she would tell him how all of her friends at school would squeal in jealously and ask who her secret boyfriend was. They would roll on the floor, laughing. Oh yes, Erik was her favorite cousin.

Lysander, however, had grown worse. Outside of the house he was charming and polite, but over the years he had drowned the puppy Mr. Drice had bought for the boys, and would steal jewelry and money during the night, and eventually the kitchen knives. Whipping him with a belt until he bled did nothing. Shouting did nothing. Smacking, shaking, kind words, and compassion _did nothing. _So when Mrs. Drice couldn't even sleep during the night out of fear, Mr. Drice decided that was enough, and turned Lysander's room into a containment cell. He removed the window by removing the frame and turning it into more wall; he replaced Lysander's bed with one from a mental hospital, courtesy of a friend (until Lysander was old enough to be excepted by the hospital), with chains and inch-thick leather straps; and placed a dead bolt on the door, and removed the knob from the inside, then put further locks on the door, and kept the keys on his person at all times. For a long time Mrs. Drice sobbed every night as her husband had to strap Lysander down for the night, who kept screaming at her to help him- Nancy was there too, to tell her that he was just trying to use her guilt.

"Like Satan." Mrs. Drice would whisper, and turn away.

Lysander was also strapped to a large baby's chair during meals, and Mrs. Drice would feed him, he would spit the food, and thrash in the chair each night till the straps cut into his wrists. The sight was so terrible that he was moved to his room for eating. Eventually when he chose to be civilized enough to eat at the table normally on a daily basis, he ate there with the rest of the family, and they could see the large, almost cuff-like scars around his wrists. By that time though, Nancy noted with a chill, Mr. and Mrs. Drice had buried him as their son in their hearts, and now in their eyes only had one- Erik.

The reason Erik couldn't sing or play music around Lysander, or even be in the same room (except for dinner), was Lysander's almost insane jealousy. Erik showed talent from birth, but Lysander, no matter how long he sat at the piano, he couldn't produce the same sounds as Erik, no matter how long he tried to sing, he couldn't dominate Erik's enchanting voice. He couldn't stand that Erik was more loved, more charming. He tried sports, but he was too violent towards the other boys, stealing and breaking one's nose- from beating the boy's face against a wall. He bit the coach when he tried pulled him away. Erik was better than him in just about everything.

But Erik didn't have too many friends- yes, people flooded to him, but most were not actually close enough to be friends- partly because of Lysander, but also because he was quiet. Erik had his own oddities, but rather than frightening, they were intriguing and wondrous. He was good at ventriloquism, and for his eighth birthday, Mr. Drice bought him tools to make puppets. Erik also helped his father with projects around the house, being good with tools. Erik built a tree house almost unassisted. But Lysander burned it, and the tree, down.

Erik ran to Nancy when he saw she was there, and hugged her tightly.

"Are you babysitting us?" he said quietly, looking up at her with his yellow eyes, another one of his peculiarities. Lysander's were brown. Nancy nodded. "I'll stay up with you all night." She nodded again. "I don't sleep anyways."

"Where is he?" They were both talking low.

"In his room, Dad strapped and locked him up before they left."

So much for that instruction. Nancy sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness, I was afraid of having to do it myself."

She felt she could relax now, and sat down in the tidy little living room and Erik sat next to her. They watched the television. She didn't baby-sit often, but she came over after school every other day, and she and Erik would spend the nights like this, curled up on the couch watching the little box. Sometimes he would help her study if there was a test the next day, or they would play games, or talk, sometimes he would put on puppet shows. These amazed her, as the puppets would move in the show box and talk while Erik sat across the room from it, next to her. He would never laugh, only stare at the box, mouth set in a grim line. Once he said something to her during the show, and she noticed the puppets go limp and silent when he did so. So talented.

She idly pet his head, running her fingers through the ink-black hair. She didn't know anyone else except Mrs. Drice with hair so dark.

"You're going to grow up to be a good man, Erik."

Erik looked at her.

"What about Lysander?"

Evidently there was still someone who believed a human being existed in that body. Erik hadn't buried Lysander, but still thought he had a brother. Nancy bit her lip.

"With God's grace, maybe him too."

He smiled. Such a good, sweet boy.

They watched in silence through two westerns.

"I'll be back, I'm going to get some water."

"Okay, uh, could you get me a glass?"

"Sure."

She turned back to the television, a late night dance show. The boy in the front was pretty cute, he looked a little like the quarter-back at her school. She grinned. Thomas Sanders. Tommy. He'd been giving her the eye lately. Those deep blue eyes…what a hunk! She giggled to herself,_how typical- thinking of boys while babysitting!_

She heard footsteps, Erik with the water.

"Jeez, what took you so long-"

She had looked back, and it was _not_ Erik.

Lysander Drice loomed over her, with a cold stare. He raised his right hand, and as it came down she saw the light shine off the blade.

"_Erik!"_

Nancy rolled off the couch and onto the floor with a thud. Lysander circled around and retrieved his knife from her chest, then walked away quickly. The kindest thing he had ever done in his short life was not checking to see if she was dead. She wanted to scream, until her voice gave out. She trembled. She heard nothing. She scarcely dared to blink for a time of seemingly immortal dread. She planned to stay there, forever, if fate decided to let her live tonight. Then there was a sound, it was quiet at first, but grew in volume. At first it sounded like someone loudly singing one long note. Nancy thought vaguely about this mystery…she stiffened and let out a strangled gasp when it dawned on her. It was a scream. _Erik!_

Nancy got up as quickly as her injured and protesting body would allow, longing to just leap up and run to Erik's rescue. All of her senses were on overdrive, from fear or because she could feel the life draining from her, she didn't care. She crawled along the floor, her chest feeling as if sawed through then sprinkled with salt. She tried not to think about the possible blood trial she was leaving, or the disgusting wetness of her fingers against each other, clutching at her chest. Where was the goddamn phone? Kitchen.

The floor was covered in glass and spilt water. Her stomach lurched. _Erik, Erik, Erik._ Lysander had Erik, she knew it, and she was powerless. She could still hear that horrifying roar, it was maddening. Where was the phone? She reached up to the counter, and slowly pulled her self up, though her muscles were aching to contract into a ball. She avoided the glass on the floor as best as she could, in her socks. Her hand grasped the phone. But at the same time she stepped on a shard, and she fell, pulling the phone down with her. She held in a yelp, but she still sat paralyzed from fear that _he_ may have heard her. After a minute she picked up the phone and dug through her skirt pocket for the number of the house the Drices were at. She dialed in what must be record time. The phone rang, no one answered. She dialed again.

"Hello, McKenzie residence."

Her hands were shaking now from loss of blood, she gasped into the phone.

"Help- Mr. Drice, Drice, Drice-"

There was shouting on the other end, then Mr. Drice's voice came through.

"Nancy! What's happened?"

"Lysander…out. Help me. Erik-" She croaked.

"Oh, god- Mary, we need to go- NOW. We'll be there, call the police, hang in there sweetheart."

Dead tone. She dialed the police, but she needed to find Erik. Her heartbeat increased at the thought. 9-1-1. A man answered. She croaked to him that an attacker had come into the house (she didn't want to risk not getting help if the operator didn't believe a child had stabbed her), speech becoming more difficult, he said to calm down. Paramedics and officers on the way. He wanted to stay on the phone with her, but she explained she had to find Erik.

"Who is Erik?"

"Attacker has him. I was babysitting. Must save Erik." She was already crawling out of the kitchen.

"Nancy, you cant be moving around, you may bleed to death. Wait, the police will be there soon. All we can do is pray."

She was leaning against the wall, barely standing. The phone cord couldn't go any further. She stared ahead, at the hallway that led towards Lysander's room. It was quiet now.

"God isn't here."

She hung up, and dropped the phone. Nancy stumbled towards the living room, and grabbed one of the table lamps, with the urn-like base, and slammed it against the floor. It shattered, and lying among the porcelain was a pistol. She grabbed it and began to limp towards the hall. Mr. Drice had taught her and Erik how to shoot several types of guns, and basic fighting maneuvers. She'd only held a gun to someone once, and it was to a group of guys who had cornered her outside of the bathroom when she was a freshman. She shot one in the foot and had nightmares for a week. One of them had oddly been like this…except it being real, of course. The pain is so much more _painful_ in reality.

She was sliding along the wall to stay upright. She was outside of Lysander's door. She paused. Then reached a trembling hand across the wall, the door, and clutched the handle. She took a slow, rattling breath. She threw the door open, but stayed against the wall to see if Lysander would run out- and she would shoot. Nothing. She didn't dare peek. She tried shouting, but her voice was shaky and feeble.

"Lysander!" she called "Come out here!"

Nothing.

"Come on- coward!" she said as loudly as possible.

Nothing.

She waved a hand quickly in front of the door. Nothing. She decided to risk it. Trusting her weight forward, she landed to lean against the doorframe, gun cocked and aimed. The room was dark, and she wished she had had the foresight to turn the hall light on. She reached in to turn on the light.

Erik was strapped to the bed. But something was on his face, some brown-red grease- she turned away, and slid down to the floor. She couldn't look. But she still saw it in her mind's eye. Erik didn't _have_ a face. She stared at the wall. Erik. She remembered his gentle smile, his handsome, young face- Erik! She raised her hands and pulled at her face, letting out a wail. She heard a car screech outside, the front door flung open and hitting the wall, frantic steps and hollers. Mr. and Mrs. Drice entered the hall, they saw her, then looked at the open door. She wanted to say "don't go in there" or "stop" but she barely had the strength to sit there and listen to Joseph roar, and storm back out. Nancy's heart froze over when she heard Mary's long scream, and the thud as she dropped to her knees. The sobbing. Things in the house being flung to the floor and breaking. Then she heard Lysander, he ran into the house, yelping for help, looking around. Joseph burst into the house, face red with rage. There was something on Lysander's face. Nancy felt her body spasm, she whimpered and gagged, unable to vomit but wanting to; because Lysander was wearing Erik's skinned face.

Lysander made a run towards the hall, but Joseph tackled him. She heard sirens, more shouts, footsteps, people were lifting her. She heard the gasps of those who entered the room behind her. She fell asleep some point on the way to the ambulance.

XXXXXXX

There was nothing they could do for Erik. The plastic surgeon took one look and said, rather cruelly:

"I reshape things to make them normal again. There is nothing here for me to shape."

Of course, the damage was extensive. Erik was sitting in the hospital for a month before he was well enough to leave his room at the hospital. The doctors commented it as the worst case of domestic violence they had in record. His face was skinned from just below the hair line to his chin. His nose was gone. Oddly enough his lips had been left behind. He had ears and everything else, but he had two stab wounds in the abdomen, one in the chest. His hands had been broken. Then there were the bruises, the scratches.

Luckily, his hands were the first to heal, but gained an odd, lengthened appearance. Then everything else followed. Except the obvious.

Erik stared at the people around them with wide eyes. He hadn't spoken since waking up. He didn't need to see his face, he didn't _want_ to see. The first nurse that had entered and fainted was enough to tell him how bad it must be. He saw it in everyone's eyes. His mother's. His father's._Everyone._ They looked at him like the teenagers did at the monsters in the movies they played at the drive-ins. He wanted to know if Nancy was okay, that way he could hide if she tried to come and see him. He asked his father for paper, and he wrote: _Where is Nancy?_

Mr. Drice looked at his wife, who stepped forward, and held Erik's hands. Erik trembled. She looked back, then back at him.

"Sweetheart…" Erik pulled his hands away from his mother's and put them over his ears, shaking his head. "It was her heart, Erik. It pumped all of the blood out of her body…I'm so sorry!" She tried to hug him, put he snarled and pushed her away.

They sat in silence after that.

The Drices were referred to a professional disguise maker who used to work for the C.I.A. They told them he once made prosthetic eyes and a nose for a woman whose husband had gouged her eyes out and cut off her nose in a fit of rage. They had with and with-out photos, Mr. Drice looked at them. The doctors told him that he couldn't expect such fortunate results however. They apologized and exited the room.

They called the man, who went by Mr. Fuller. And explained their case. Mrs. Drice took Erik, and they flew to New York, to where Mr. Fuller ran shop. Erik more a hat and a surgeons mask for the trip. Mr. Fuller was by no means young, but it was difficult to say just how old he was. He wore a t-shirt, and jeans. He kissed Mrs. Drice's hand, with great poise. He didn't so much as bat an eye when he saw Erik.

"I seen worse, Lady."

Then held out his hand to Erik, who did nothing.

"You know it's rude to leave a guy hangin'." He kneeled to look Erik right in the eye. "Some asshole cutting yer face off isn't an excuse to go around actin' stiff to people." He stood up, "Or maybe I was mistaken for thinkin' yer a gentle-man."

He started to turn, when Erik grasped his hand with enough force to turn him back around. He gave two good shakes. Mr. Fuller grinned.

"That's it. This young man's got a good, strong shake." he looked at Mrs. Drice. "I like to work with my clients alone, so if you'll excuse us Ma'am…" She nodded "Oh, and how much are you lookin' to pay?"

"Whatever it takes." She handed a photo of Erik, before that night.

Mr. Fuller and Erik walked to the back of the shop, and once there, Mr. Fuller's speech and demeanor changed. He offered Erik a stool, and leaned against the table, holding up the photo to compare.

"What's your name, son?"

Erik fidgeted.

"You probably haven't said a word since this happened, am I right?" Erik nodded. Mr. Fuller put the photo on the table beside him. "The real reason I told your mother to stay out front is because I've known a few kids who've come in with similar problems. And I don't like seeing the cruelty of some idiot ruin another, especially when it's someone as young as yourself. I wanted to offer you the chance to get this out of your system, because I have something special for you, that can make it look like this never happened. But it doesn't matter if your soul remains mutilated." He went towards a door, and opened it, and drug out a dummy. Tossing it on the floor. "You can tell me what happened, or you can show me."

A week later Erik and his Mother returned. Erik hid behind his mother, when they walked up to his father, who was waiting for them at the airport. Mary was grinning broadly.

"Oh Joseph, wait till you see!" She looked behind her, "Go on Erik."

Erik stepped from out behind his mother. His face was perfect, just like the one he was born with. Joseph dropped to one knee and held out his arms.

"Oh, son…" Erik went to him and Joseph held him tightly, he held him back so he could look at Erik's face. "It's better than I could have imagined. It's like nothing ever happened!" he looked at Mary, chuckling "What's the damage?"

"He gave it to us for free, and he said that as long as Erik comes to pick up the next shipment in person, it's free, forever."

Joseph look up at the sky.

"Oh, there is a god. Did he say why?"

"No, in fact, he refused to say anything about it at all."

"Was it something you said?" He asked Erik, who shrugged. "It doesn't matter, let's go home and have some of that good cooking."

XXXXXX

...And Lysander? No one mentioned him. No body. But just because he was ignored and mostly forgotten didn't mean he stopped existing.

Mr. Drice had caught him out in the backyard, dancing on flowers, and singing, wearing his "mask". He was singing a repetitive little phrase:

"_I am Erik, I am Erik, and mommy loves me, because I sing, and daddy loves me, I am Erik, I am Erik, and I sing like angels sing, and everyone loves me."_

"LYSANDER!"

Mr. Drice ran after him all through the yard, and then inside, where he was finally tackled. He tried to take the face away from Lysander, but the child thrashed and screamed, holding it in place on his face. He got away, but Mr. Drice caught his leg, and pulled him to the floor. Lysander was swallowing, and almost choking. The police and ambulance assistants rushed in with guns and stretchers. He pointed to Lysander's room. When they passed, he dragged Lysander to the back of the kitchen, where the cellar door was. He opened the door and threw Lysander down the stairs into darkness. Then he slammed the door and locked it.

When the police came to ask for descriptions of the intruder, Mr. and Mrs. Drice said he was gone when they arrived. Nancy had passed out, and Erik was in critical condition. So they had to wait two weeks to talk to Erik who wrote, as instructed by his parents, that he was tall, wore all black, and had a mask.

Most of the family didn't know about Lysander, and they were told he was murdered along with Nancy. They just said that the intruder took Lysander's body with him. They had a double funeral. Erik refused to go. Everyone knew something was done to his face, but no one asked about it. It was just the way of things.

And the family went on as if it had always only been them three. Erik eventually spoke, but it was very little, and measured, like an adult. But there was always that secret down in the cellar…Lysander was only let out to be sent to a hospital at the age of ten. The age of admittance.


	2. School Days

Erik Drice lived a mostly normal, quiet childhood. He insisted on attending public school, much to the relief of his parents. In his spare time, however, he remained in his room, and during the weekends only came out to eat dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Drice respected his privacy, though now and then they would coax him into family outings. Sometimes he would bring out a contraption from his room and display it for his parents. At first they were delightful, being miniatures of their home, or of famous places. As he grew older, they took on odd characteristics, he broke the bathroom mirror once to create a sort of illusion box showing either heaven or hell, depending on the angle you looked into it from. His parents ignored it, and told themselves it was just an eccentricity. He still competed, and had gained a reputation in the music world, especially for his singing talents. He excelled in school, and made it into his sophomore year of high school relatively content. He was popular, in spite of being quiet, thin, and not playing a sport. He avoided crowds, and because of this they were drawn to him. He was something of a teenage celebrity…among girls anyways, they thought him playing the piano and singing was romantic and all that rubbish. The men for the most part hated him, and occasionally a Soc (which is strange, as Erik technically _was_ one) would try to pull something. But Erik only had to glance in the fool's direction, and they would think twice. He had been fights before, usually it was on the outskirts of the school, when a girl rumored to be a slut was cornered by a group of guys. Maybe that's why girls liked him.

In his sophomore year in high school he was involved in several fights, but only one was important. There was a freshman cornered by seniors. They were picking on him because he looked "Mexican". Not really, but his skin was colored, and that was all that mattered. Erik called out to them.

"Hey Ronnie, I think I saw your girlfriend making out with John."

Ronnie, blonde and buff, turned around, face red. His girl, well, had a reputation for being flirtatious. The best part was that Erik didn't even have to make that up!

"Where!"

Erik pointed behind him. Ronnie ran off, his friends following.

"That greaser is gonna get his face pummeled in!"

Two seniors were still there. They looked at Erik.

"Get out of here, or I'll ruin you."

The two stalked away. Erik had dirt on them, that would destroy their families reputation. It was a hobby for Erik. Erik walked over to the boy crouched in a ball.

"Get up." He offered his hand, the boy ignored it and scrambled to his feet.

"I can take care of myself!" the boy had a thick accent, from the middle east. Erik scoffed at him.

"Indeed. What's your name?"

"Rahim Sadegh."

Erik looked him over with his yellow eyes.

"Hmm."

"What?" Rahim asked timidly, expecting ridicule.

"Sincere, merciful." Erik mused. "Unfortunately, even if you were appropriately named, those are not qualities valued here in America."

Erik began walking, Rahim hurried alongside.

"What are you talking about?"

"The meaning of your name."

"You haven't told me yours, and I can't thank you properly until you do."

"Thank me for what?"

"Getting rid of those…_jerks._ That's the word, yes?"

"Also acceptable is asshole, jackass, and just ass."

"Oh." Rahim looked over to the courtyard, and shook a pebble-like fist "_Just ass!_"

Erik grabbed his wrist.

"Knock it off." He laughed. "I'm Erik Drice."

"Ohhhh, you're the one all the pretty ladies like to talk about." Erik stared at him. Rahim took his hand and kissed it, "Erik Drice, I am indebted to you, because you saved my life! Now we'll share a meal and be allies for-ever."

Erik pulled his hand away.

"No, you don't need to do that, just stay away from trouble."

"But it's tradition."

"Where are you from?"

"Iran."

"I'm afraid things are different here, here people eat with enemies as well as friends."

Rahim gasped.

"Why?"

"Because we're all out of our minds."

"Obviously!"

"Maybe you should stick around me…" Erik could imagine this kid not lasting more than a week in this school, he would feel slightly responsible if let him wander around on his own. The idiot would get himself killed. "Just stick around Erik and you'll be fine." he said low enough for only himself to hear.

So Rahim followed Erik around like a shadow, and Erik noticed that he didn't mind the company. Rahim's accent lessened, and Erik's dry humor rubbed off on him, verbal banter became frequent. Rahim invited Erik to his house to meet his parents and siblings, wanting to show off his american friend. In return, Erik invited Rahim to his performances, and they hung out at one another's houses. They were in Erik's backyard one day, late at night.

"What's it like to have no brothers or sisters? It must be lonely."

Erik looked over at Rahim.

"I used to…I have a brother."

"Really? Why have I never seen him, doesn't he visit?"

Erik just laughed and laughed.

Afterward Rahim sensed Erik's past was not something to be pried into, and reluctantly avoided bringing it up. It didn't stop him from talking endlessly about his own however.

"You know my Mom?"

Erik nodded.

"She's not really _my mother_. Don't let anyone know I told you, I do love her. But my father was only able to bring one wife with him, and so my biological mother was left with the rest of my family in Iran."

"Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes, but Mom is a lot nicer. It's so strange how you all only have one mother, how does one women keep track of all of those children?"

"For one, there are less children."

"True."

"Think of it this way, in most neighborhoods, all of the mothers watch out for all of the children. So it's like every neighborhood is a family."

"I guess."

The Drice's were pleased to see Erik become slightly more social, as Rahim eventually made other friends, and dragged Erik out to school dances. Erik never danced himself of course, which irritated the girl Rahim had brought along for him. They went to Prom that year, having snuck themselves and their dates in. Rahim went to get drinks when Erik slapped his hand away from the glasses.

"Idiot, you're not supposed to drink that."

"But it's punch!"

"But there is more than punch, and if you drink it, you'll spoil my fun."

"Erik, what did you do?"

Erik laughed.

Twenty minutes later, people began falling asleep everywhere, even lying down in the middle of the dance floor. Rahim chuckled, but admonished Erik, saying he was spoiling the dance for the seniors. Erik pretended to be insulted at this accusation, not saying he did it but not denying it. They left, carrying their dates into the car and driving them to their bewildered parents. Rahim's favorite prank was when everyone came back from spring break and the school reeked of fish for the rest of the year. No one ever found where the smell was coming from, though it was strongest around the vents. Rahim suspected it was Erik's doing, as was when every girl in the whole school finding a secret admirer note in their locker telling them to meet "him" out by the front of the school. After school there was a huge group of teenage girls looking around, preening as they waited for their very own Romeo. That was valentine's day.

"Erik, you are awful. Getting those girl's hopes up like that!"

"It's their fault for being so foolish to place all of their hopes on a slip of paper- do girls think of nothing but _love?_"

"I'm serious, don't you ever consider the effects of your little jokes?"

"Oh stop, you know you enjoy them."

"That's not the point!"

"You are absolutely no fun Rahim. Every time I do anything you ruin the whole thing with long-winded lectures on _morals_ and _consideration_, and all of that nonsense."

"I do it for the benefit of your conscious and soul."

Erik laughed.

"What are you, a copper?" He continued, "That's your new nickname, Copper."

"No it is _not_, I'm not going to be labeled by your silly american slang."

"Fine, what did you call the chief of police over in your country?"

"Daroga, why?" Rahim twitched, realizing he spoke without thinking. "No, Erik-"

"Daroga!" Erik slapped him on the back, and smirked "It's kinda cute." He walked along past the group of girls waiting. "Good afternoon, ladies."

"Erik!" Rahim, now _Daroga_, ran after him.

XXXXXX

In Erik's junior year, one of the choir girls was being pushed around by several other girls, and Erik and Rahim walked upon them.

"Natalie!" Rahim called, running into the group. The girls turned and saw Erik, and they scurried away from the little blonde thing, who was sitting on the ground, weeping.

"You know this girl?"

"Yeah, we're neighbors."

Natalie looked up at Erik, and her eyes widened. She sniffed.

"Who are you?"

Rahim helped her up.

"This is my best friend, Erik."

Erik hadn't been paying attention, but turned at his name. His yellow eyes met Natalie's. She looked away, and smiled shyly.

"Nice to meet you… I'm glad you guys showed up when you did."

Afterward, Erik had gained a new tag-a-long, but this one had insisted on it, rather than be invited. Rahim found her needy, chronic insecurity taxing. Erik ignored her for the most part, but he had made that a general habit with everyone. Rahim slowly lost all taste for blonde american girls, Erik laughed, telling him he shouldn't group people like that. Natalie, sensing she was no longer welcome, watched them from afar. She even followed Erik home once. Erik found her habits amusing, and disappeared from sight several times, just to watch her run around in bewilderment.

Rahim was sick, with the cold, one day, and Erik decided not to go to school either. He stayed in Rahim's room for two days, until Mr. Drice went there and told Erik he would be better off helping his friend by being in school and keeping track of what he was missing in class. Erik retorted he wouldn't know, as they were in separate grades. Mr. Drice threatened to ground him, but Erik told him to go ahead. He had called the bluff, and Mr. Drice let him be, shaking his head as he left. His father was simply unwilling to fight him.

"Erik, you shouldn't miss school just for me…" Rahim laughed weakly "I bet Natalie misses you."

"Quiet, Daroga."

Rahim was well enough to return to school, but was still weak, two days after. Erik kept a close eye on him, but at the end of the day, Erik was rushing to his friend's last class, and saw a small crowd.

"It's because of you that he wasn't in school, right? It's your fault he doesn't like me!"

Erik ran to the crowd, and shoved the first person out of the way, after those standing notice him and nearly tripped over their own feet trying to clear the way for him. They talked excitedly, eyes full of bloodlust. Rahim was wheezing against the wall, and Natalie had her hand raised to strike him again. Erik caught her hand, and turned her to face him.

"Erik!" She beamed, then her face changed to mortification, realizing what he had just seen her do. "I didn't…I was…I can explain!"

"Your actions speak for you." He released her, and looked at the people standing around. "Get out of here! There's nothing more for you to gawk at."

Those gathered shuffled out, reluctantly, knowing they were going to miss the best part.

Erik put his arm around Rahim, and began to walk him away.

"Wait Erik!" Natalie called, "I've been waiting for you to come back."

Erik ignored her, talking to Rahim instead.

"I leave you alone for one moment, and you get beat up by a girl."

Rahim laughed, then wheezed.

"Yes, I'm okay."

"Erik!" Natalie said.

"What am I supposed to tell your mother, Daroga? She'll think I tripped you or something."

"ERIK!" Natalie shrieked.

"Don't worry, I'll tell her a bunch of pretty women were fighting viciously over me."

"Make sure she doesn't hurt herself when she goes into convulsive fits of laughter."

Natalie grabbed Rahim and shoved him to the ground. Erik spun around- and so did his fist, slamming into Natalie's face. He got her in the cheek, so she wasn't knocked out. She landed on her butt, and stared up in shock. Rahim stared at Erik as he was helped up a second time.

"Sweet Allah above Erik- you cant hit a lady!"

"Oh, Erik would never hit a lady, Daroga." Erik said, "Never ladies."

Natalie scoffed in indignation. Erik and Rahim turned away, and walked home.

Natalie stayed there on the ground, long after they had disappeared. _How dare he! Not a lady, he says…how dare he! He will pay and so will that Mexican…and then Erik will belong to me. He will pay!_ She brushed her blonde hair out of her face, and stood up. Everyone thought Erik was so perfect and wonderful…and he was…but she would find _something_ about him to expose so that no one would love him…and when he was all alone- she would be his salvation! And if she couldn't find anything, she'd make something up. And Rahim? She could just say he was a homosexual. Everyone would believe her, he was already weird enough. Not even Erik would stand by him after an accusation like that!

There was a phone-booth on a nearby corner, so she ran there and told her mother she would be home late, she was going to Judy's house to study. After, she walked to Rahim's house (next to hers), peering in through the windows discreetly. She saw Erik say something to Mrs. Sadegh, and walk towards the front door. She ducked in the bushes, as the front door opened and Erik strode out. Natalie waited for him to turn a corner, then she ran after him.

She followed him back to his house. He walked inside, and she rushed by windows, stopping at his bedroom window. Erik was standing before a full-length mirror, leaning forward peering closely at his face. A hand felt along his jaw. His back was mostly facing her, though she could see his profile. He looked like he was scratching his chin, but his hand was at an odd angle for that, and then…Natalie's eyes bugged out in her skull, and she gasped and stumbled back. She scrambled away from the window, afraid Erik may have heard her. She thought she had seen him lift the skin off of his chin. When she saw that she had been unnoticed, she went back to the window, and watched Erik slowly and carefully peel off the skin of his face. He dropped it onto the floor, a mask. She couldn't see his reflection, so she could only make out enough of his face to know it wasn't pretty…more than that…he turned suddenly and Natalie slapped her hand over her mouth. He was hideous! She sat under the window, back to the wall. He had no face! She shuddered, thinking she had been _attracted_ to him. Natalie felt repulsion, and anger that she had been fooled into caring about him at all. Erik had tricked everyone into liking him, everyone at school, even Rahim. She now felt sorry for Rahim, seeing it wasn't his fault he didn't see Erik for the monster he was. This monster had hit her! Oh, he would pay…she knew his secret now, and she was going to make sure everyone knew and that no one would ever be fooled again. She peered up through the window, Erik was smoothing on a new face, and she sneered. It was far too convincing. Almost unholy- _almost?_ It was unholy!

Natalie ran from Erik's house, and into her room, convinced this was her duty from God to expose one of Satan's minions.

Erik was slightly annoyed, he had glanced at himself in a mirror after he had arrived at Rahim's house, and saw that his current face had begun to decay, being slightly discolored around the eyes, and peeling along the jaw ever so slightly. He excused himself, saying he needed to get something from home. So he rushed to his house, and once in his room, carefully removed the synthetic skin from his face- or lack thereof- and replaced it. He didn't want Rahim to discover this about him, didn't need the reactions of his friend's family. He was prepared to lie for the rest of his life, if they could stay friends.


	3. Rumors

_thanks for reading and reviewing everyone, it means a lot to me. Constructive criticism is welcome, but not about my spelling and minor grammar mistakes, as I already know about those and are the result of exceeding laziness on my part. So as they say, my bad. Anyways, more Rahim goodness in this chapter. :D_

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Rahim told Erik that he didn't really have the cold. They were alone in Rahim's room, the rest of the house was asleep. They were in the same bed, heads at different ends. The curtains in front of the window didn't meet each other fully, so a silver line of moonlight cut across the bed. The rest of the room was dark. Erik was quiet for a moment, then he warily asked:

"If you don't have the cold…then why are you sick?"

"…I have new-mo-nea."

Erik sat up.

"Pneumonia! That's not possible, everyone gets immunization-" Erik paused, "Has your family been immunized?"

Rahim sat up.

"What is _immunized_?"

"It's when you've gotten medicine so you don't catch diseases."

"Oh, _that_… Father decided we didn't need them."

"What!" Erik moved out of the bed.

"No Erik!" Rahim grabbed his arm before he could move away. "He thought the american doctors were trying to take advantage of us. Back at home, doctors would tell you that you needed all sorts of unneeded things." Erik only stared back at him, his yellow eyes gleamed in the light of the moon. "A-and besides, it's the middle of the night."

Erik stood still for a moment, then he slowly sat on the bed, looking off into the darkness. Rahim stayed propped up on his shoulder.

"Are you being treated?"

"Yes. Father knows he was mistaken. I take this antibiotics-" Rahim poked a bottle on his nightstand, which wobbled from the contact. "And they say I will be better very soon."

"How soon?"

"A month or so." Rahim smiled. "No, Erik, you are _not_ missing a month of school."

"But who will be here to torment you? Your siblings, bless them, do a very poor job of it."

Rahim laughed.

"I'm not missing anymore school either. I'm not as sick as you think." Erik didn't say anything. "Don't worry about me."

"Who said anything about worry?" Erik flopped back on the bed, and pulled the covers over him with such force, as to leave Rahim uncovered.

"Hey!"

"I didn't do it."

Rahim pulled the covers back, and they both laughed softly. They didn't speak afterwards, _goodnight_ being implied by the weary sighs as they shifted back to sleep.

***

They went to school the next day, and things went by without event for a while. Rahim did get better, in three weeks. Natalie had disappeared as far as they knew. School was exceedingly peaceful, which was unusual, especially with Prom coming up. Rahim had picked out their dates as usual, and Erik was as unexcited as ever.

During lunch Rahim saw his date, Sarah, walking by, and he walked up to her. Erik followed quietly behind.

"Hi Sarah!"

She turned around, the full skirt of her dress and dark hair swirling. She was smiling, but as soon as she saw it was him, her eyebrows arched, and the corner of her mouth turned down.

"You…"

"What's wrong Sarah?"

"You really know how to make a fool out of a girl. You've made me the laughing stock of the school!"

Rahim looked back at Erik, who looked as confused as he.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't talk to me, fairy."

"Fairy?"

Erik stepped forward.

"How dare you use that name- what's the big idea?"

Sarah crossed her arms and shrugged.

"Your buddy's a faggot Erik, and if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance, or people will think you're a fairy too." She continued, "Though I personally wouldn't believe _that._"

"Listen up, Daro-_Rahim _isn't a homosexual. Where did you get such slander from?"

"People have seen your friend at the _clubs_, they've seen him with men. Everyone knows."

"Fairy means homosexual?" Rahim said.

"Yes," Erik said. "Who started these rumors?"

"I don't know…is it true?"

"NO." Erik frowned at her.

Sarah looked at Rahim off-handedly.

"Sorry, hun. But even if you love the ladies, I cant be seen with you with what everyone thinks about you. No other girl will dare show up on your arm to the dance either."

Erik grabbed Rahim by the shoulder, and pulled him along.

"Come on Daroga, we're getting to the bottom of this."

As they continued, they saw that people kept looking at a certain wall. They got nearer, and they saw that there was writing on the wall.

_Rahim Sadegh sucks cock!_

Rahim's face turned a muddy red. Erik stopped and dropped his bag, and ran off to the art room. Rahim was still staring at the wall as Erik ran back out, a fat paint brush in one hand, and an open, half filled bucket of paint in the other. He dunked the brush in the paint and with broad, frantic sweeps of his arm painted out the words. Those in the courtyard watched, the one by the wall shrieked that Erik was getting paint on them, he ignored them.

"Erik, you're using the wrong color." Rahim said.

Erik paused and looked at what he was doing. There was bright red paint splattered on the wall, on the ground, and on him. He hadn't been looking at what color he grabbed, he just took and ran. But he slowly nodded his head.

"Oh no…" He stepped back and looked over the wall. "This is the perfect color." Erik looked back and smiled. He turned around and looked around at the students. "Look here, all of you!" Those who weren't already watching looked over. There was a few groups who pointedly ignored him, and they laughed amongst them selves.

"Look, the fairy's lover is throwing a fit." A senior chuckled to giggling freshmen.

Erik stalked over to them, sticking his brush into the bucket. He pulled it out and sweeping his arm before him, flicked a huge trail of read paint across their faces. The girls screamed.

"Asshole!"

"Oh my god, my dress!"

Erik ran to the others, dumping paint right from the bucket all over them. The men he had doused stood up, cursing at him. One rushed towards him, and everyone raised themselves a little to see. Erik threw the bucket at him, and it bounced off his head, but it distracted him enough to cause him to run into a wall and sink to the floor. It looked gruesome, the red paint pooling on the ground around him. The other men stood there. Erik returned to the wall he had painted.

"Listen." Erik didn't need to say it very loudly, as the courtyard was silent, and all eyes were on him. "Do you see this red mess on the wall?" Everyone stared silently. "DO YOU SEE IT?" Heads bobbed up and down. "Good. Now, if this LIE about Rahim does not stop, all those spreading it, believing it, starting it….you will end up like this." He gestured to the wall. "Are we clear?"

More nodding. Some of the girls, and the guys standing stared at Erik venomously, nodding slowly. Erik stared back, then moved to Rahim, who was still looking at the wall. He grabbed both of their bags, and dragged Rahim along to a secluded area of the school. It was off towards the parking lot, they sat down on the curb. Rahim was holding his head in his hands. Erik ran a hand through his hair.

"Damned idiots."

"What do they do to the accused in America?" Rahim said eventually.

Erik looked at him.

"The accused?"

"Yes- what's the punishment for homosexuals?"

"It's not _illegal, _per se…just frowned upon. There's no law against it, but you still have to worry about what regular people around you may do. Such as our classmates."

Rahim looked up, but not at Erik. He crossed his arms and shifted.

"Back at home, homosexuals, or people accused of being one, are dragged out into the streets and have stones thrown at them, or are burned, or other horrible things all leading to death." Rahim sniffed. "Do you know why we moved out here?" He glanced over. "I had a sister, Delbara, and she was very beautiful. Midnight hair- like yours- and midnight eyes. There was a man who wanted to marry her, but our Father didn't like him, so he turned him away. The man told everyone Delbara was a…a…lesbian- it wasn't true, but that didn't matter. The man had power, and she was punished…our family was in danger by association, and our house tainted with undeserved shame." Rahim sat up and clenched his fists. "It was _this_ we were trying to escape by coming to America- but it finds me here! If my family knew what these people say about me- my Father would be so ashamed…" Tears slowly made their lines down his face. "If something happens to me-"

"Daroga!" Rahim turned to Erik, who gazed at him sternly. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

Rahim covered his face, and began sobbing. Erik politely looked away and remained silent, though he did sit closer. Rahim grabbed his shoulder, and pressed his face onto Erik's arm.

"I'm s-sorry. This is probably why everyone thinks I'm a 'fairy'. _Men don't cry_, isn't that a rule here? Father says that. 'Be strong', he says." His voice broke, then resumed. "Whenever I start, I feel so stupid, and it makes me cry more- and I cant stop."

"Holding it in forever will drive you mad. The idea is to save it for when you are behind closed doors, someplace private."

A few minutes later, Rahim was still leaning on Erik.

"Do I have to go back there?"

"Eventually, yes. Have courage."

The lunch bell rang. They continued to sit.

"If things get worse, and my family finds out, we'll have to move."

"It wont happen."

Rahim stood up, head hung low. He picked up his bag.

"We'd better get going, before we're late."

Erik looked at Rahim as he stood up and picked up his own back, as if asking if he was sure he wanted to go ahead with this. Rahim turned and began walking to class, and they parted near the red wall, nodding to each other.

***

Unfortunately Erik's threat did not kill the rumor. It just became much quieter. Rahim's friends found excuses to be away from him, and he did try to find a date for Prom, but each girl told him she was already taken. They were all very polite and apologetic, but Rahim knew better. So did Erik, whose date abandoned him as well, except that he didn't notice until Rahim brought it up.

"I don't feel like going to Prom this year." Rahim said, falling against a wall after school.

"Nonsense, Daroga. You'll be missing out on quite the _event._" Erik grinned.

"I don't want to see how you plan on ruining Prom for this year's graduating class."

"What- I'm not going to do anything! You are always accusing me of these terrible things. I just thought you would appreciate the music."

"Stop it, it's always you." Rahim said dully.

"Oh come on, why don't you want to go? You adore these disgusting little things."

Rahim failed to suppress a smile.

"They are not disgusting."

"What ever."

"What's the point? I don't have a date. It's no fun without a beautiful lady on your arm."

Erik walked around, waving a hand in the air.

"Oh _women_ are so _overrated_." He stopped in front of Rahim. "If _that_ is the best excuse you can come up with- then I'll be your date."

"What?" He picked up his stuff and began to walk off. "No way- you're crazy."

Erik followed.

"Well, how _else_ do I get you to come?"

They were side-by-side, walking off the school property, heading home.

"I thought you were trying to get people to _stop_ thinking I'm homosexual."

"It is one of a series of steps at beating them at their own game. And if you don't go to Prom, then my plan is ruined."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's your surprise, so I cant tell you."

"Why don't I feel encouraged?"

"Trust me, Daroga."

"Fine. I'll go. But you're not my date."

"Of course not, you're _mine_."

"Erik!"

"I'll pick you up at seven."

"This had better be good."

They neared the suburbs. There was footsteps behind them.

"Oh look, it's the Mexican fairy."

Erik spun around faster than Rahim did, and a thin rope flew out from Erik's outstretched hand. Natalie was standing behind them, and yelped as the rope fell over her head and immediately tightened about her neck. She had followed them, and had mistakenly assumed it would be safe to insult Rahim in a public area, where other's heading home from school, and others could plainly see them. She was unaware that Erik doesn't care who's watching. Erik wrenched her to him with one rough tug, and wrapped one arm around her, as he pulled the rope tighter with his other hand.

"Stop Erik!" Rahim tried pulling Natalie away from Erik, but Erik snarled at him and knocked him aside. "ERIK."

Erik paused, Natalie still choking in his arms.

"Why? She deserves it."

Rahim scrambled to his feet.

"Dear Allah- it's not for you to pass judgment! You could go to jail for this!"

Erik was looking at him to say, _so what_. Natalie was foaming at the mouth.

"Drop her already, she's dying!"

"Well, naturally when there is something very tight around one's neck, one tends to die." But he slid the rope off, and dropped her on the ground. Natalie gasped on the ground, clutching Erik's leg. Erik shook her off, and rolled her on her back with his foot. He placed his foot lightly on her rib cage, keeping her in one place. "Are you the one who started the rumor about Rahim?"

Natalie's eyes focused on him.

"Why would I waste my time on something as frivolous as that?" Erik pressed down with his foot, not enough to be even remotely painful, but Natalie got the point, her eyes widening. "I didn't, I swear."

"Come on, Mom's making chicken curry tonight." Rahim said.

"Oh, well, in that case we'd better get going!" he turned from Natalie and he and Rahim walked along, as if nothing had happened. Natalie sighed on the ground, that was far too close for comfort.

***

Erik decided to go to his own home after dinner. He walked inside, and the Drices were watching television together on the couch. They greeted him, then his father mentioned Erik received some mail, which was placed in his room. Erik said goodnight.

Inside his room, the light was already on, he dropped his bag by the desk. He pulled out the chair and sat down, grabbing the letter waiting for him. There was no return address, but the handwriting was very elegant. Erik felt slightly jealous for a moment, as his own handwriting was childish in form, no matter how much he had tried to refine it. He smiled at himself and ripped the letter with the letter opener like one may gut a fish. He pulled out the sheet of paper, and unfolded it on the table. Erik's eyes were immediately drawn to the bottom of the brief letter, and he felt his heart chill over. It was signed: _Your most loving and humble brother, Lysander._


	4. Confetti, Concerts, Catastrophe

_Dear Brother, Dear Erik,_

_How many years has it been? The hospital is lonely, with only brainless shells and idiots to spend my time with. Are you still singing? Are you still loved? I want to know what you are thinking, how you are living. I have no thoughts or life of my own…I hope you will relieve a little of my boredom, I do not hope for more than a casual correspondence. A word now and then would keep me content to rot here._

_Your most loving and humble brother, Lysander._

Erik stuffed the letter into his desk drawer, he would absolutely not respond. Nor would he tell his parents who the letter was from, he didn't need to distress them with any mention of that past. He didn't want to. But he didn't sleep well that night, thinking of all the things he had imagined he would say or do if he ever saw his brother- no- saw _Lysander_ again. He had no brother.

***

No more letters appeared afterward, and Erik pushed Lysander from his thoughts. Prom was tonight, and He and Rahim were standing out side the door. There was only a few more minutes before people were no longer admitted. Everyone that was coming was there. They were both dressed in all black, suit, shirt, bowties, everything.

"You will love this." Erik said, peering into the room. "Ready?"

"Yeah…let's go." Rahim said.

Rahim and Erik walked through the door, arm-in-arm. The lights were low, everything was pink, purple, and blue, and they slowly drew the badly disguised attention of all present. Rahim walked to sit by the wall, but Erik was dragging him to the dance floor.

"What are you doing Erik?"

"This is revenge for all of the dances and parties you dragged me to, and for your really poor choice in dates." He grinned evilly at Rahim. "And, since our schoolmates insist on talking- I'll give them something to talk about."

The "slow" song came on, and the other couples slowed, staring at them warily. Erik pulled Rahim to him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Really, this isn't necessary, uh, I don't know how to waltz…"

"Good thing I'm leading then." Erik swept them along, gracefully spinning them across the floor. The others slowed down to where they were basically standing. Rahim looked uncomfortable. "The lesson here," Erik said, drawing Rahim's attention, "Is to not care about what others think. What you can live with is more important."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Hold on…we almost have everyone's attention, then the festivities can start."

"Erik…"

They spun near the stage, then Erik pulled Rahim him out, as if to spin him, but Erik reached up with his now freed hand up on stage and pulled something behind the curtain. Loud rustling sounded, and Erik let Rahim go. He pointed up, and the eyes of the room were drawn up.

"Confetti!"

"No look, there's writing on them."

Large slips of paper fell in a massive cloud upon everyone below. The students grabbed them, and read them. Some snickered and read them aloud.

"Nick likes to eat his boogers in economics class, sometimes he puts them into Sandra's hair!"

"Jessica wets herself whenever she hears thunder!"

"Jonathan was caught making out with his cousin in the garage!"

More were read, and the laughter died down as they realized that these were everyone's secrets. There was at least one for everyone. Soon everyone was staring quietly at one another, a few girls having run to the bathroom in tears, guys disappearing through the exit door, faces red. There were ones about the chaperones there and the band, so inside it was like some one pressed mute. The dance lights continued, eerie without accompanying noise.

"Our work is done." Erik said quietly.

They purposely walked through the middle of the floor, looking at those quietly shuffling. Rahim didn't look at Erik when they got outside. He walked off to the side, and said in a strained voice.

"That was…that was…"

"Daroga?" Erik sounded almost timid.

Rahim spun around and burst into laughter, shaking so hard he had to lean against a pillar.

"That was fantastic!" Erik sighed, relieved. "You are terrible Erik- but I loved it." Rahim tried to resume a serious face, but failed. "I'm serious, that was an awful thing you did…" He laughed, "But I don't feel bad about it at all! Is this how you feel about all of your pranks?"

"Yes, but I usually laugh inside my head."

"Did you see their faces, how they got all quiet- how in the world did you find all of that out?"

Erik made a face.

"You would be shocked at what sorts of things they record in the school records."

Rahim sighed, still chuckling.

"Alright. Now, where did you learn to dance like that?"

They sat outside for a while, then took the long way home. Erik stopped out side of Rahim's house. Rahim looked at the house next door, Natalie's.

"Did you include a slip on her?"

"No."

"Really?"

Rahim looked at Erik, actually surprised. Erik shrugged.

"She may do irritating and stupid things, but she is ruled by her emotions, and I thought about why she is being this way…She just wanted attention. Doing anything more to her, would've been…" They reached the door. "Thanks for stopping me the other day."

"That's what I'm here for." Rahim opened the door, "See you later."

"Goodnight."

***

At school afterwards, everyone was magically made painfully shy.

"Allah above, I think you've created the most polite school in America Erik!"

"Or created a school full of people afflicted with avoidance and aversion pathology."

As they went around, People stared at the ground, and were overly apologetic for brushing against someone or almost bumping into one another. Those unaffected were Rahim, Erik, and Natalie. They walked along and came to the front of the library.

"I'll be back, I need to do something." Erik said.

"What?" Rahim looked and saw Natalie sitting on the library steps, eating lunch. "Ah, I see. You're not going to try killing her again are you? Because then I will have to come with you."

"No, Daroga, that wont be necessary." He began walking towards her, then looked back, "Could you not watch?"

Rahim turned around. Erik rolled his eyes. He walked up to Natalie, who saw him and stood up. She began packing her things, sandwich hanging out of her mouth.

"Wait, Natalie." Erik held up his hands.

She took the sandwich out of her mouth.

"What do you want?"

"I came to say…I'm sorry for trying to kill you."

"Yes, well, that's nice of you." She scoffed.

"I've been unfair to you. You just wanted to be friends, and I was indifferent." Her face softened, "Things escalated from there, and I was unnecessarily cruel."

She put down her things and sat down.

"Just _face_ it, it's your true nature. You can't take back what you did." She looked up, "What do you see when you look in the mirror? How can you stand it, knowing you're a monster at heart?"

"You…I didn't mean…" Erik twitched, "Fuck you!"

Natalie gaped at him. He glared at her, then turned away and walked back to Rahim, then continued, pulling him along.

"How did it go, whatever it was you were doing?"

"Forget about it."

"What did she do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Natalie watched them go. She smiled, she had found a nerve. It was amusing how easy Erik was to play, for all of his influence and power. She wanted to confuse him further before she took her final step, to push the dagger deeper.

Rahim worried about Erik frequently, as they walked, he figured Erik had tried to apologize, and that it had not gone well. Not that he was entirely surprised. But the important part was that Erik made the attempt. It showed he may care about his actions after all. He spent the rest of the day distracting Erik from his brooding with intentioned clumsiness, and stories about family gatherings and dramas.

***

Erik entered his room at the end of the day, dropping his bag, he walked towards his bed, but stopped. He went to his desk and pulled out Lysander's letter. He got out a pen and a clean sheet of paper, and sat down. The paper stayed blank, his hand poised over it. His eyes strayed to a photo of him and his parents, but he saw his reflection in the glass in the frame. _How can you stand it?_ He was not like Lysander! Almost though. He crammed everything back into the desk drawer, and slammed it shut. _I'm better than that…I feel remorse. And guilt. I want to be good._ Erik flopped down on his bed and opened up the curtains, ignoring the full length mirror propped up in the corner.

***

Natalie walked up by Erik on his way to his next period a few days later. He ignored her.

"Erik, I'm sorry I was being so stubborn and unpleasant the other day. I want to talk to you."

Erik glanced back at her, then said before entering his class;

"I'll see you at lunch."

Lunchtime, Natalie was waiting for Erik outside of his class. They walked to the library, Rahim saw them and followed far enough behind to allow for needed privacy.

"I would like to start over, forget everything before now." She smiled.

"Okay. I'm Erik, nice to meet you." He bowed his head.

"I'm Natalie, nice to meet you." She sat down. "I was wondering if you were going to be in the end of year music concert. I heard you play the piano."

"Yes, I do…I hadn't planned on being in the concert."

"Mr. Colby would take you in on the spot, your talent is no secret, you know."

"I know, he tells me all the time…" Erik groaned. "High school choirs are not particularly appealing with all of their drama, bad singers, and worse music."

"It'll be fun, everyone goes, and there's always an after party."

"Everyone goes to a music concert? Our school?" Erik looked at her skeptically.

"They will if you're singing."

"Please…I don't like compliments."

"But it's true." Natalie said. "Anyways, that's up to you. But it'd be a lot more exciting with you around." She looked down. "Could you tell Rahim I'm sorry? For everything."

"You can apologize yourself, it's more sincere. Did you just want to convince me to go to the concert?"

"Yeah. Kinda tired of a half-filled theatre, you know."

"I'll see you later."

Erik walked off, meeting Rahim again.

"Natalie says sorry. You'll have to decide for yourself how genuine she is. I don't buy it."

"What did you guys talk about?"

"I think Mr. Colby put her up to getting me to perform in the school concert, that's why she's being nice now."

"That's too bad. I'd like to think she meant it." Rahim and Erik sat down in the middle of the courtyard, at a table, near the red wall. "Are you going to go to the concert?"

"Well…I don't see why not. But…I don't know. Okay, I'll go. Just for one song."

"You will make some choir girls very happy."

Erik sighed.

***

Natalie started to hang around Erik and Rahim, but this time she was warily welcomed. She followed them everywhere, like a shadow. She behaved quite differently from before, she was sweet and funny. As her personality became sweeter, it seemed to be reflected in her appearance. Or maybe it was more make-up. She brought hot lunch for them all now and then, and upon learning when Rahim's birthday was, brought a small cake to school. Everyday the three walked home together. Rahim would go inside first, and Erik would walk Natalie to her house. Erik would just say "See ya tomorrow." And was impartial as before to her attentions. Rahim had to go see the doctor one day, and told Erik (to his great annoyance) to go to school. So he and Natalie were alone together at lunch.

"You know what, I don't think I've ever heard you sing." Erik said, as they ate.

"Well," She smiled, "If I sing for you, will you grant me a favor?"

"No."

"What?" She put down her sandwich. "Why not?"

"You should sing because you enjoy it, not for favors."

"Then can I have a favor?"

"It depends on what you want." Erik made a lazy gesture.

"You are impossible!" Natalie pouted.

"I prefer prudent."

"So do you even want to know what I want?"

"If you want to tell me." Erik took another bite of his sandwich.

"I want…a kiss."

Erik stopped chewing and stared at her. Then he swallowed.

"What?"

"A-a kiss…" She said more timidly, she had wanted a different reaction.

"Natalie…didn't you know, Rahim and I…" He trailed off meaningfully, waiting for her reaction. Hoping for her to say a certain phrase.

"No! I started that rumor, It cant be true-" She paused, mouth hanging open in an unbecoming fashion. "I-I mean that's just a rumor. Isn't it?"

He smiled. He caught her, too easily. But she wasn't exceedingly bright, and had proven herself to be big-mouthed in her time with Erik and Rahim. Spewing everything from family drama to personal opinions to school gossip.

"Don't look so horrified. I already knew, I was just waiting for you to slip up and say it."

"…I'm sorry…at the time I meant to do it, and hoped it would make you both miserable. But now I regret it. And you're still holding it against me."

Erik chuckled.

"Dear girl, it's my nature, don't you know?"

"You're still mad about what I said to you."

"No. Not mad."

He continued to eat, looking calm. Natalie squirmed.

"Well?" She said. "What can I say?"

"See you tonight." He nodded, and stood up. The bell rang on cue, and he walked away.

"See you." Natalie said.

The concert was tonight, and she and the rest of choir had told everyone at school to come, to see the seniors in their last performance, and to see Erik. She was glad that it was finally here, because after tonight, Erik wont be coming back next year. She sometimes wondered whether to continue with her revenge, as the boys were now kind to her, and sometimes…she enjoyed being around them. She had failed again to capture Erik's romantic interest, but it was just as well, but it would've been twice as satisfying if he had. She would always remember what she had seen through Erik's window. And this combined with the few times she had heard him sing convinced her that such great ugliness, and such great beauty couldn't exist in one being, could not be a part of one human. And his rage, she remembered. His rejection! Twice now. She would _not_ be sorry she told herself. He was getting what was coming to him.

***

Erik was the last one to perform that night. He sang with the full orchestra in the bit, filling the little theatre with his supremely beautiful voice. It was sadness the voice resonated through the audience, and they were compelled to cry, compelled to remember their worst moments. Everyone had shown up to see him. The school, his parents, Rahim and his family, and others who had come to see their children. Erik stood straight and proud, feeling the emotion coursing through him, the full of the beauty of music filling his being. This was what he lived for, not the audience, but the music. It was wonderful to be submerged in it, and to share it's beauty with the world. The song ended, and his voice faded from the air. The audience stood slowly, coming out of a daze. Erik felt a pair of hands around his neck. Just as the audience began to cheer- their faces twisted into stunned horror, and they screamed.

Natalie had reached over Erik's shoulders, felt under the chin, and as hard as she could-

_pulled!_

The synthetic face came off disgustingly fast,

ripping,

ripping,

she ripped off his face.

Erik's face was exposed for everyone to look upon, there were red splotches in several places, from the rough removal of the synthetic skin, and the blood was welling in the wounds. His face was exposed muscles, with lips, and translucent film grown over. A gaping hole took the place of a nose. His blazing yellow eyes and ebony hair were in stark contrast to the red of his face. What was most horrifying was the expression of horror upon his open face at _being seen_.

Natalie dropped the skin with a shriek, seeing the blood, some of the "film" from his "face" had stuck to the mask.

Erik felt the cold horror grow well up through him, and felt the hundred of eyes, staring at his face. _He was on display! He was the show!_ He heard his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickened, everything was reeling. Blood filled his eyes and stained his crisp white skirt. He looked up, and was blinded by the theatre lights as he roared and hid his head with his arms, and ran off stage. Natalie trembled on the stage floor, then scrambled to her feet and escaped the theatre. Mr. and Mrs. Drice leapt up, and had run outside, in pursuit of their son. They made it outside, and saw Erik running across the parking lot. Mr. Drice removed his coat and caught up with him, throwing the coat about him, sheltering him. Mrs. Drice was crying, and held him, guiding him to the car.

Rahim jumped up and ran out of the theatre, but Erik wasn't anywhere to be seen. His family caught up with him. His younger siblings were crying, the older ones looked to Father. Rahim didn't wait to see what he would say and ran towards Erik's house. His Mom called after him, as did his older siblings, but he heard his Father silence them.

_Erik!_

By the time he had reached Erik's house, he fell against the doorway, panting.

***

Erik was alone in his room, after hours of his mother fussing hysterically over his wounds, and his father talking to his lawyers to press charges for assault and _suing that little bitch for everything her family owns!_ -as Mr. Drice put it.

Rahim had come by, earlier. He didn't want to see him, not now, not like this. So he asked his mother to send him away.

They were supposed to start packing tomorrow to move, they were leaving Montana and going to New York in three weeks.

He got up and wearily opened the desk drawer, he did want to write Rahim a goodbye letter, at least. He drew out the pen and blank sheet of paper. Then he saw Lysander's letter underneath, and pulled it out. Erik sat at the desk and reread the letter. Then he sighed and began to write a response:

_Lysander,_

_In three weeks we are leaving for New York City, as a result of some unfortunate circumstances. I tell you this not to rub it in, but because I don't want you to be left in ignorance by the hospital staff, or even our parents. I_

Erik paused. Then crossed out the "I".

_That is all. _

_E. D._


	5. Brother, Dear Brother

-tap, tap, tap-

Erik woke up, groggy, and slid his legs to the side of the bed. _What the hell? _His feet touched the carpet-

-tap, tap, tap-

He looked over at his window, with the curtains slightly parted, then flung up his hands to cover his bandaged face. Rahim was outside, tapping on the window.

"Erik!"

Erik rushed over, and drew the windows shut. He clung to them, head resting against the fabric.

-tap, tap, tap-

"Go away." Erik said.

"You can't hide in there forever, you know."

"I don't have to…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Daroga…" He paused. "I'm moving."

"Let me in, NOW." Erik jumped a little at the forcefulness in his voice. "I want to talk to you."

"You can talk to me though the window."

"I'll break the window and crawl in if I must, but you will not hide yourself from me!"

Erik thought he was bluffing, but then he heard something heavy hit the window. He threw open the curtains, and glared at the impetuous little Daroga, who had his fist raised above his head to hit the window again. Rahim looked right at him, unflinching. Erik pushed up the window and crawled out with a quick, fluid movement.

"You wanted to see Erik?" He stood before Rahim, who backed up into the fence as Erik got closer, "Is your curiosity satisfied?

Outside there were the sounds of sprinklers, and not much else. The husbands had left for work for the day, and the wives were cleaning house.

"How could you think that of me?" Rahim's face looked strained, and he was blinking more frequently than normal, "After everything, you take our friendship to be something so shallow? Do you actually believe I'd abandon you so easily, after all of the times you stuck up for me?"

Erik looked off to the side.

"Erik is leaving for New York in three weeks, in that time Erik doesn't want to see you here again."

"Let me help you, at least talk to me."

Erik went to the window, and looked at Rahim.

"Erik's secrets are to remain Erik's secrets."

Then he re-entered his room and shut the window.

"Wait-Erik-" Rahim threw up his hands in exasperation, "Bismillah!"

The curtains were drawn shut. Rahim walked off from the house, feeling discouraged, but vowing to try again each day until Erik was gone.

***

Rahim came back everyday, and sat outside of Erik's window, with food to eat and books to keep him occupied. He would read the books aloud all day, having his noisy picnic outside of Erik's room.

And while Erik did his best to pretend he wasn't there, he packed up his room within the first week, and his face had healed enough to forgo bandages. But not enough to resume wearing the synthetic faces, so he took to wearing a slip of fabric over his face for the next week and a half, until his face was fully healed. What else occupied his time? Lysander. As the hospital was in the same town, letters took only a day or two to pass along. Erik had originally not expected a response. The next one looked like this:

_Brother, Dear Brother,_

_What circumstances could drive you so far from me? _

_Your most humble and loving brother, Lysander._

Erik found himself compelled to reply to this one as well…and as he wrote, he kept on, eventually describing everything that had happened. It was so easy to spill out his feelings on paper, to someone far away, rather than to someone more immediate and judgmental in a face-to-face. Paper was patient, and didn't interrupt him, but allowed it to flow and reach full expression. Then he remembered _who_ he was writing to, and didn't fail to express his unveiled anger towards him….

_How could you do this to your own brother? I loved you more than anyone in the family- they didn't give a shit about your sorry skin. And Nancy- she died, but that was likely your intention, wasn't it? How did you…what was going through your head? What is your reasoning? She was so kind, but you couldn't see it, she was just in your way. I've thought about for years all the ways I wanted to hurt you- I hate you. Do you get that? Everyone else pretends as if you never existed. What is it like to not exist? _

Afterward he immediately went to his piano and began playing, the same emotions repeating themselves. He anxiously waited for the response.

_Brother, Dear Brother,_

_The world _pretends_ I don't exists, but as evidenced by the reactions to that moronic act done by that stupid, foolish girl- what was her name? Natalie Milton, yes… she has proven that I am still a part of you all, and you wont be rid of me by covering it up and hoping if you close your eyes it'll go away. That is typical of people, but I expect better of you. And you prove my point, I exist inside of you, as shown by your intense feelings. I am the rage inside of you. You know me better than anyone Erik, as I know you better than anyone could ever hope to. Such as your pet- Daroga- that means police chief, no? Quaint. They have an extensive library here, though it is more for the use of the staff, as the patients don't have the presence of mind to wrap their mind around _"See Jane run."_ Idiots. I know you better. I will tell you, this world will always feel lonely to you, until you remember me! Your other half, your shadow. Or maybe you are _my_ shadow, what of that? You carry my heart, and I the other mind. You want to hurt me? Like you wanted to do to Natalie, right? Those fools at school…I'm sure there are others…there's always someone out there who is just _asking_ for it. You and I are one and the same. I understand you. But you see, your face, it is your reminder, the world's reminder that _you_ are my brother. Your face is beautiful for that. That little girl, Natalie, that child…she doesn't understand you, she was clearly jealous of your magnificence. Your face is like the voice of God, it is too great for mere mortals to bear, that is why the world reacts in alarm. They realize how insignificant they are, and it makes them scared and angry. Therefore you cannot trust any of them, only I can you trust. Because there is no one who loves you more. I am always here, listening, when no one else will give you the time of day…and I can tell that I am the only one you've talked to about your "unmasking". It gladdens my heart you trust me so much already. _

_Your most loving and humble brother, Lysander._

Erik read this letter a few times. Lysander was clearly delusional…but his logic…had a kind of warped sense to it. Exaggerated and deranged, but there was an element of truth…the fates of twins are always entwined, aren't they? No, no, he is not like Lysander! But…he remembered his own blank moments of intense hatred, and remembered…_that…night…the look on Lysander's face… as he…_Erik stopped, his nails were digging into the surface of the desk. He stared at his hands. Then he heard Rahim's calm voice through the window, reading Edgar Allen Poe. He knew Erik had a fondness for Poe. Right now he was reading _The Mask of the Red Death. _Erik stood up and crept closer to the window, drawn by the warm, familiar voice.

"_The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revelers around. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was dabbled in blood--and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror." _

Erik stood by the window now, leaning on the wall. This story had always held a particular fascination for him. In the beginning of the story he would always wonder at the impetuous of the Prince Prospero, throwing balls and reveling in his excesses while death and diseased ravaged the outer world. You couldn't just close your eyes and hope for it to go away. Red Death would not be ignored this way…Erik jolted lightly at the thought, realizing the parallel. Except that red death was confined, and the revelers were out in the world, hiding from the truth. He looked behind him at his mirror, and saw himself reflected. He touched his face, now with the synthetic face placed upon it. It seemed the truth was everywhere, and ultimately inescapable. Rahim now came to the end of the story:

_"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revelers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all."_

Erik smiled, a thought coming to him.

"Daroga, you quite possibly have the worst voice for reading _The Red Death_ in the whole world."

"Erik!" He heard Rahim put his hands against the glass of the window, "It's so good to hear you."

Erik drew back the curtains, and was surprised to see Rahim looking so unkempt.

"You look awful, Daroga."

"Gee, thanks." Rahim pouted. "Open the window, jerk."

"Go to the front door, this isn't your girlfriend's window to sneak into."

"Okay!" Rahim turned from the window and messily picked up his things, and ran around to the front.

Erik took Lysander's letter and put it into his desk, then made his way to the front door. But Rahim had opened the door for himself and dropped his things right there in the door way.

"My parents are out right now."

"Where?"

"Talking to lawyers."

"Oh." Rahim stared at his feet.

"Care for a drink?"

"Erik, we cant drink!"

Erik laughed heartily, then wiped his eye.

"Ah, yeah, I missed that." Rahim looked at him, confused. "I meant water, Daroga. Or milk."

"Oh! No thanks."

"Alright, you know where everything is if you change your mind. The kitchen's the last thing being packed up."

Rahim walked over to him, and they went to Erik's room.

"You really are leaving then?"

"I couldn't go back, after _that._"

Erik pulled out his desk chair and turned it around, he gestured for Rahim to sit.

"That's not fair!" Rahim said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't go off and move away when everyone called me a homosexual. How do you think I felt about showing my face around that place after that-"

"Show my face around the school, I daresay that's exactly what brought us to this situation."

Rahim blushed over his poor choice in words.

"I didn't mean it like that." Rahim sat down in the chair.

"Do you know what it's like to be on _display_ like that?" Erik said, looking off to the side. "To be stared at, thought inhuman, for your face! To be leered at, like some curiosity!"

"No one in the theater thought it was amusing or funny."

Erik sat down on his bed.

"The nurses…when my parents weren't at the hospital-" Erik stopped.

"Erik, what happened to your face?" Rahim paused. "To you?"

"I told you once I had a brother."

"Yes, I remember."

Erik took a deep breath. Then stood up and went to lean against the window sill, looking out.

"Well, there's a reason you've never seen him. His name is Lysander…" Erik then told him the basics of what happened that night, brushing over it quickly, talking mostly about the results of he event. He ended with saying how he obtained his new "face".

"He's still alive? He should've had _his _face taken off, that's how we took care of things at home- 'eye for an eye'!" Rahim stood up.

"Sit down, Daroga." Erik said, he could see Rahim's reflection off of the glass.

Rahim obeyed. He shifted in his seat.

"That's not everything, is it?"

"No…"

"Tell me." Erik didn't say anything. "I mean, you don't have to. I just want you to know that I'll be here to listen if you want to talk about it."

"I didn't talk or sing for a long time afterward. No one knows it was because I _couldn't_. My voice had disappeared, from the …pain…but the nurses thought it was either because I was stupid, or because I was being stubborn."

Erik paused.

"I've never talked about this. I don't like to think about it. I…pretend it didn't happen. But it doesn't change anything, Daroga. My parents like to pretend that they didn't fail with my brother, by imprisoning him in that godforsaken place, by placing this mask on my face- but as you saw, when Natalie removed it, she exposed the truth! That is why people react with horror to me, because no one likes to see the truth. The truth is ugly, as I am."

He laughed softly.

"It feels so ironic. The face you see on me now is merely an illusion, a mask, to hide what is really there. But if you took off everyones' face, they would look like mine, you know. Everyone wears a mask. The difference is that mine is tangible. I am a walking mirror Daroga! And what people see when they look at me makes them angry- as if they saw their own inner ugliness- that's what I wrote to one of the nurses, the one who fancied herself the loveliest of the bunch…and they were all pretty, Daroga. But not one was a lady. They were all ugly, inside, that's what I would write on those sheets of paper. They would try to get me to say it to them, and called me a coward when I didn't. If I could've, I would've screamed it in their faces. God knows I tried! You know how awful it is for a singer to be without a voice? - that was one of the many things they taunted me about. I truly thought I would murder them all…if I hadn't been injured to the extent that I was."

Erik's hands curled into fists as he went on,

"My parents came as often as they could, and would stay the night if possible. But it was draining on them, and they did not know the torments that would come in their absence. The nurses would take me out, to some little room, with all of the others standing around, and show me off, strapped down to a hospital bed. _Show me off!_ Poking my face, to see if I could still feel it! Pulling on my broken fingers- that's why they are so long now, you know, though perhaps I should thank them for that, for afterward they were even straighter than before- these hands, constant proof of things everyone has tried to bury. But it was worse after my face was the only thing visibly wrong with me, as I called them all ugly, if you remember. They looked at my hands, and at my face, at my yellow eyes, and told me I was that monster all of the other children feared was under their beds. They brought in other children sometimes, to cry at seeing me, or sometimes to let them be cruel as children are notorious for being. Not exactly the hospital experience the doctors tell you about, eh?"

Rahim could tell how Erik felt about all of this, from listening to the incredibly expressive voice, even though he did not see Erik's face once as he spoke there at the window.

"Why increase my parent's suffering with this knowledge? I remember being stirred back to consciousness after passing out in Lysander's bed by my Mother screaming…screaming, Daroga, _louder than any woman you'll ever be with_…at my face! I still have never seen my face, and I never want to. I know how awful it is, from the way anyone who has ever looked at me, the way their eyes widened, and their mouths gaped wide in disbelieving horror. But I wonder, is it so very horrid, what would a face have to look like to draw such a reaction. But I admit that I, for all my talk of the world in denial, don't wish to see what I have become. I don't want to face the truth. Is that very wrong?"

"No. Because you are not your face. That is someone else's ugly truth. You are the very best person I've met, you're _my brother._ Not the brother of the real monster, Lysander."

"Lysander is like Natalie. Hungry for attention. That makes him do monstrous things, but he is not a monster. I am unable to think of him as such, though I know that he is deserving. And he has done horrible things…destructive of anything better than him. Do you know anyone like that, Daroga?"

"Yes. Most people are like that, but they are not so blatant."

"Oh, my brother, he is good at something that I've never been able to master. Writing. And he revels in it, though he's never actually told me so, I would think he would bring it up constantly. To escape from the present moment, in the hospital, in Lysander's room, I thought of the strangest things, to distract myself as best as I could. That is what some of my miniatures are-" Erik gestured to the miniatures and contraptions he made to show his parents when he was younger gathering dust on his shelves. "Music is wonderful for escaping, you should do so sometime. I would've simply died if I had lost my voice or hands for good. As soon as I left the hospital that is, bastards wouldn't let me die there, though then I wanted to, because I thought music was impossible for me. Do you know what I wish?"

"What is that?"

"I wish I could feel _love._ There are those who it would be in my best interest to see alive, and that I am rather fond of- but nothing what our peers experience in the throes of romance. Though I would hope for something more substantial, and not so ridiculous. I wish this simply because it's so odd to know that someone else feels it, especially for you, but to have no concept of what that thing is. Have you ever loved someone?"

"…Yes."

"Who was she?"

"Oh, she…it was back in Iran. We were both twelve. But then she moved to France." Erik wiped his face, complaining about a headache, then turned away from the window. Rahim continued, "Am I ever going to see you again?"

"I cant say, here, you move and usually…it's final. It's hard to locate people afterward."

Rahim stood up.

"But…if you don't go back, then I cant go either! You think you can't go back to school, what about me?"

"You'll grow up, unfortunately. Adulthood claims everyone eventually, I'm afraid." Erik said it in a melancholy sort of tone, he had not meant it as a jest. "Childhood is wrested away from us at the least opportune moments. I am sorry, but my parents also wish to leave here."

"But…you don't have to, the school suspended Natalie. Everyone was really horrible to her before she was finally kicked out. They are horrified that she did that…though they are sorta freaked out by _you know_. Everyone feels terrible."

"You don't need to tip-toe around the word _face_. I'm not going to have a mental breakdown from you bringing up the obvious. And part of the reason I don't want to go is because I cant stand…I _loathe_…" Erik turned back to the window, "Pity!"

"I'm just saying you don't need to be afraid of what they will say-"

"Daroga, you don't understand."

"I'm trying!"

Erik heard the family car pulling into the driveway.

"I'm not very good at goodbyes, but I'll walk you outside."

"So soon?"

Erik was already walking out his door, Rahim followed. Rahim grabbed his things, and they walked outside. Mr. and Mrs. Drice were talking outside, but they stopped when they saw their son.

"Rahim was just leaving, I'll meet you back inside." Erik said.

Mr. and Mrs. Drice walked inside, looking at Rahim, almost hopefully. Once they were alone, Erik stood there quietly. Rahim looked back at Erik.

"I'll come by tomorrow, okay? Same time."

"This is it…we're leaving tomorrow."

"Damnit, Erik-"

Rahim dropped his things. He rushed forward, catching Erik in an embrace before he could step back. Erik stiffened.

"Let go of me, Daroga."

Rahim did so, slowly, reluctantly.

Then he turned away, and began to cry.

"Daroga…" Erik stepped forward and reached out.

"Goodbye Erik!"

Rahim snatched his things and ran awkwardly, arms full.

"Goodbye." Erik said.

***

When Erik returned to his room, he took out paper and a pen, and flopped down on his bed to write a letter. There was a sunken feeling in his chest, and he was tired of outside company. His parents had told him over dinner that they had declined going to court, because it would require Erik exposing his face for the judge and jury, since no pictures existed. Erik nodded, he agreed with this decision. Mr. Drice had put intense pressure on the school, how he did not say, but being a government employee (what exactly he did was unclear), Erik was sure it led to Natalie's expulsion, and the ignoring of whatever abuse she suffered from her classmates. His parents were now in the kitchen, both packing up the last that needed to be, and cleaning up dinner.

_Lysander,_

_Natalie was expelled, but Father is not going to court, because of the personal compromise involved in doing so. Rahim says that the students were not kind to her, but who knows what exactly that entails. I don't want to go back to that school…I don't want to hear how sorry everyone is. I don't want the morbid curiosity, the pity. I am tired of people being sorry about what is simply reality, it seems our society is built on denial. Everyone is hiding from the truth. Simply by normal self-absorption, my words are misunderstood, though I try to express things, they are twisted to what the individual takes them for. I regret leaving though. I wish things could have been otherwise. But we shall be unchanged, wont we?_

_E.D._

The Drice family moved to New York, and settled right into a two story townhouse near Mr. Fuller (who had secured the place for them). With his help they unpacked everything within two weeks. Lysander's letter came a few days after.

_Brother, Dear Brother,_

_Sorry for the delay, the staff here are being difficult- it's inspection season, when the state decides to poke it's head in and pretend to make sure hospitals and other institutions are run "properly and professionally". Honestly it's more pleasant when staff aren't trying to be acceptable. I haven't had a smoke for almost a week, as recently they've been enforcing rules. I've been getting the shakes, they've been more diligent about checking if I've had my meds. _Normally_, they don't give a shit. Expelled? That's all? Just because you didn't want to show yourself in court? That's pathetic. But that is your choice. I would go to the ends of the Earth to make her pay, if I were you. How dare she make you suffer, usurp your life, ruin your friends…doesn't it just boil your blood? Don't you just want to wring her little neck? She should be exposed as you were, humiliated as you were, that would only be just you know. Let me guess, you were explaining to Daroga, why you were leaving him? And he just wasn't understanding that it had nothing to do with being afraid of being picked on, as he was- it is as you have said, you don't want to be condescended to or treated as a victim. You cannot bear to be around those people because they have seen you at your most venerable, and that drives you mad, to be subject to another in that fashion. You are tired of hearing "poor, unhappy Erik!", no? You don't want to be seen as poor, or unhappy, to be defined in the eyes of others by one event- that's why you are leaving, because now everyone will only see you as the poor face-less boy. You're right to not want that. You deserve more than that, because you are so much more than that, my dear brother. You don't need to tell me how well I know you, you need not wonder at how easily I understand your heart- I am your brother, never forget! I wish you would visit…but I know that you will not. It has been so very long. I want to hear you sing again, in all of that wondrous glory. Promise you will at least always write to me. PROMISE. We will always be the same. How are mother and father? Alive, I presume, which is most unfortunate. But I suppose I cant have my pie and eat it too. How _is _New York? Is it as it's boasted to be?_

_Your most loving and humble brother, Lysander._

Their correspondence continued, while Erik's life remained uneventful throughout the rest of high school. He was popular there also, but he kept such distance that no one was close to him. Then one night as he slept, Mr. Fuller and his date, and Joseph and Mary Drice were all in the same car as it was run into by a Volkswagen Bus full of drunken "hippies". The force pushed the little car out into the other side of the road, where an eighteen wheeler hit them head on. Two of the five in the VW bus died, the rest sustained injuries. Everyone in the Drice car was killed.

At the wake, it was one long day of "poor, unhappy Erik". It infuriated him, and he barred anyone from going to the funeral. This alienated him from the rest of the family, as he wished. He wanted to grieve alone. The wills of his parents left everything to him. As did Mr. Fuller's, which surprised him greatly. Apparently Mr. Fuller had no one else to leave his possessions to. He would sit in the cemetery for hours after, often with his violin, playing. It eased the guilt he felt at not having really loved his parents. Not like they loved him. Familial obligation had never been enough to spur loving bonds, and the selfishness and self-preoccupation of a child and teenager did not allow for full appreciation of the things they did for him. Oh, but he missed them, and the comforting background they had provided, that had always been taken for granted…

Erik had been taught slowly over the years how to use the equipment Mr. Fuller used to make his faces…but Mr. Fuller had told him that he couldn't wear them all the time as he had been, as his face couldn't breathe under the fake material. So Erik alternated the skins with a full nude-colored mask, until he had manage to construct something as thin as real skin, a careful and painstaking process. Erik sold all of the other false body pieces, everything inside, until only what he needed was left. He also sold extraneous items from his home to be able to rent it as a furnished "apartment".

Erik drudged through the end of his senior year and graduated as the class of '64. He was eagerly accepted into Juilliard, into the music sector. He packed up all of his personal belongings, and contacted his father's old lawyer, Mr. Ellsworth, to draw up contracts to lease both his townhouse, and the extensive studio in downtown New York, where Mr. Fuller's shop was. He locked up the remaining equipment remaining there in the basement, which was forbidden from being opened by tenants. Erik paid the extra money to have his own room in the dorms.

New York becoming increasingly _the_ place to be, with the rise of great music theatre, and the actors who starred in them. It was the middle of the sixties, and the city was vibrant with life. And though Erik now felt almost nothing but weighted apathy, the city's atmosphere could be credited for keeping him alive, the air was full of desire to live, thick with the dreams of millions. You could feel it pulsing all around, a thousand dramas.

It was all very inspiring, and soon Erik was composing as a daily hobby, but nothing very grand or serious at first. Eventually several pieces fit into a greater project, and within the first month of his freshmen year decided to begin an opera, based on this. Then one of his classmates dropped out of school and he was replaced by a shy, dainty creature. When he first saw her, his heart felt painfully swollen in his chest, and like it had risen up in his throat. Long pale blonde hair, pale skin, sky blue eyes- so ethereal. So tender and venerable in her movements. He didn't know her name, but she was already the dearest sight in the world to him.

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_notes:  
a wake is when they show the body before taking it to the cemetary to be buried, technically the burial is the funeral. Nowadays they are usually carried out in the same day, but here that was not the case  
Juilliard was opened in 1905 as a music school, becasue all of the young musicians kept going off to Europe for school_

_Thanks for reading! I appreciate it, and the next chapter features you-know-who...and not the one from Harry Potter. :D Ciao!_


	6. Christine Daae

She was of Swedish descent, though she was a fourth generation American. Erik forgot everything as he found himself walking up to her, compelled by some need that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep in her.

"You look like you've just come home." He said, the words just coming to him.

She looked at him, and smiled, an eyebrow lifting faintly.

"That's odd…I was just thinking to myself something along those lines." She looked away politely, then back at him, "Who are you?"

"I'm Erik. Drice."

"I'm Christine Daae."

They smiled at one another.

"Welcome to Juilliard. Can I show you around?"

"Yeah."

Soon after, he was assigned by the head of the music department to coach her, much to his surprised delight. He wanted to be around her always, her presence was addictive, her voice soothing. Around he didn't think of anything that had happened, but was able to exist in the happy present with her. But the happier their times together became, the more miserable and dejected he became when they were apart. She was such a distracting force in his life that he almost ceased writing to Lysander, whose letters became increasingly bitter, instead he worked on his opera as if possessed when he couldn't be around her.

Erik, after a period of time, decided she could start auditioning within and out of the school. Christine became the understudy for the lead role in La Traviata, which was quite the accomplishment. Christine felt discouraged at this, but Erik assured her it was opera politics and seniority rules that made her understudy, and no reflection on her talent. Christine did get to perform, the actress playing Violetta falling ill for the whole season. Erik commented on her good fortune.

Christine talked now and then of herself and her past, telling how her father had passed away in his sleep from stroke, and how he was her inspiration for everything she did and her reason for wanting to come to Juilliard. Christine became more comfortable around him as time passed, and soon she told him everything always. But just when Erik was deciding on when to tell Christine _just _how he felt about her, there was a newcomer, in the theater sector, who caused quite the commotion among the women of the campus: Raoul de Chagny.

He was rich, handsome, and _French_. But what was truly revolting was the way women toppled all over themselves to get his attention. His appearance was at first only an annoyance, but then he decided that of all the women in the school…he had to have Erik's pure, gentle angel. Turns out, that Raoul and Christine had known each other from their younger days, through their fathers. They had been _quite_ good friends, so she began spending her time with him, quite innocently. Erik warned her about letting earthly delights distract her from her ambitions. Christine for a while stopped her visits, as she was accustomed to doing as he wished. Erik was highly suspicious, but allowed her to go again, and followed her around instead. He trusted her entirely- it was de Chagny he was keeping an eye on. When Christine finally introduced him, it would be an understatement to say that they hated each other immediately. Raoul seemed to have it out for Erik, and with his group of friends would try to corner him, failing always much to everyone's bewilderment. Erik would simply disappear.

Christine limited her time around Raoul when he told her of his feelings towards her. Raoul was quite resentful after, and accused her of being in love with her "controlling, dominating teacher". But de Chagny was too persistent, and Christine fell for him, and her finger fell into his ring. And like a good, traditional girl, she announced her plans to drop out of school once she was married to the school. Erik was insane with rage. He was there when she accepted his proposal, of course. But it was so out-of-the-blue that he didn't believe Christine would accept- they had not so much as said "I love you" to one another. But lo and behold! Her eyes lit up and she grasped Raoul's hands in hers whispering her acceptance over and over- it was sickening!

Erik would not allow her to abandon music- or him- so easily. He packed up his things and prepared his townhouse (which currently was not being rented) for her arrival. Then he invited her there to "celebrate her good fortune".

Christine entered, and gazed appreciatively at the tasteful furniture and decorations. Erik took her coat, and put it on the coat hanger- then locked the door. He led her to the dining room. They talked about each other, avoiding her engagement, until after dinner, when Erik was giving her a tour of his home.

"I thought that you would be really angry with me about his…" She said.

They had just entered the last room upstairs, which was a pretty little room with light, warm colors, and a flowery smell. He was standing behind her, in the doorway.

"I am."

Her head snapped back to look at him, her blue eyes wide. Her mouth was lightly open.

"I'm sorry…but I…I think I love him. I want to be with him, I think he can take care of me."

"You were meant for greater things than cleaning a kitchen and cooking meals. You know I can't let you give up on your dreams like this." Erik said, as if she hadn't said anything at all.

"What?" She turned fully around. Then understanding struck her. "Erik, it's late, and I really think I should be going."

He didn't move from the doorway.

"You _think_ you love him?" Erik said incredulously, "You _think_? Are you serious?"

"Please move Erik… why does it matter to you anyways?"

"You clearly are not thinking logically about your future."

"It's my life, isn't it?"

"That doesn't mean I'm going to let you run off with some womanizer."

"Who do you think you are?" Christine was becoming angry, "My father? You have no right to tell me what to do. Now get out of my way."

She ran right into him, catching him by surprise, and she dashed down the hall and down the stairs. He easily caught up to her and caught her about the waist, but her clumsiness sent them to the floor. He pinned her down, not really meaning to. At being held in so venerable a position, Christine started thrashing with abandon, panicked by the determination in his eyes.

"Just say you wont drop out of school- this isn't the fifties." He said rapidly, standing up, holding her still.

"L-let go, let go, let go of me!" She was frantic, and she swiped at his face with her hand, but he caught it- but that was a distraction from her other hand which went down to claw his face, and took it clean off.

A trait of the thinner skin mask is that it requires far less effort and precision to remove, to prevent damage- and this time, Erik's face was fine. But it was exposed.

Christine froze, horrified because she thought that she had actually removed his face. Erik dropped her, but she couldn't move.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm sorry, Erik, I'm sorry!"

He stepped towards her, and she scrambled back up against the wall. She covered her face with her hands, and said his name repeatedly.

"Ah…I frighten you…do I?" Erik's chest was heaving. "… I daresay!…Look at me!" Erik dug his long fingers into her hair, and turned her face to him, Christine's eyes fluttered open unwillingly, shining and creating streaks down her face. "Are you satisfied?" He cried out, "Have you punished me enough?" He had dragged her forward from the wall to where she was now on her knees. "I cannot let you leave now!" He wrenched her forward, and carried her down to the basement, he put her inside and slammed the door shut, holding onto the door handle. Christine was beating against the door.

"Let me out…" she began to sob.

Erik looked up, holding the doorknob until he could lock it. Then he sat on the last stair, and put his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry my dear, I would put you in one of the pretty rooms upstairs- but I cant trust you to not jump out the window!"

"Why are you doing this?"

Erik looked up at the door.

"…I'm preventing you from ruining your life, out of love!"

Christine groaned behind the door.

She stayed in his home for two weeks, eventually being let out by convincing Erik she would not try escaping through the windows. Christine also convinced him to not wear his mask, which he put on instead of the faces, saying that she did not mind. Erik told her what happened to him. Christine said that she would not drop out of school, and she would continue lessons with him. Then in the middle of the night Christine called Raoul and he showed up at the house- Erik caught them of course. But there was something he didn't expect.

"Daroga!"

Rahim stopped in the doorway. Erik had Raoul tied up in a chair, and Christine was standing near him. She ran to Rahim, without even knowing who he was, and grasped onto him. He shut the door.

"Erik- what the hell has happened to you?"

Erik's face softened- then he scowled.

"Did she call _you_ here too?"

"No- I heard you were excepted into The Juilliard School, and I asked them where you lived. Then I saw him-" he pointed to Raoul "go inside, and I heard screaming. You can't do this Erik!"

Erik walked to Rahim, then with a quick motion, squeezed the pressure zone on his shoulder, and Rahim collapsed in his arms. Christine cowered from him.

"You did not think to escape me so simply, did you?"

He laughed. Erik took Rahim and dumped him next to Raoul.

"Please, Erik…"

He placed the ultimatum before her that night- choose him, or they would all die together. Erik put everything on the line- if he couldn't be with Christine, what point was there for living? But the truth was that he was going down a path he didn't want to, but then he would think of Christine leaving forever, and push away his doubt by increasing the stakes to the point where there was only one true choice for her. And under such a dire threat, Christine had no choice but to give in. But when she chose him, looking at him with earnest eyes, as she hoped to be saved, he knew in his heart he could not continue. And this realization came as she kissed his barren forehead, and tears stained both of their faces.

Erik walked over, and released Raoul. No questions were asked, and he kneeled on the floor beside the unconscious Daroga, as the lovers fled his home- out into darkness. The climax of their tragedy had played out, and Erik was alone again.

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_This story is far from over! And Christine has not left Erik's life for good- so despair not. Actually, you should be quaking in your boots...or socks, what ever is on your feet. Que menancing music. Read the summary, and you know what's up next. Ciao. :D_


	7. Nightmares

Rahim blinked his eyes, disoriented. The room slowly came into focus. Everything was dark, except for a single lamp which was behind the couch he was laying upon. He remembered he had ran inside Erik's house after seeing a man enter and he heard screaming. He had walked in, and he froze in the doorway shocked to see again the sight that had driven Erik from him the last time. Erik's lack of a face, barren before him, and such undisguised fury in his amber eyes! A girl ran up to him, looking about to faint, clutching to him. The entrance hall had things strewn everywhere. _What the hell has happened to you?_ What had happened to Erik in the brief time living here? He had hoped to reunite with his best friend, but had stumbled into this odd horror. There was the man from before, gagged and tied to a chair. Then Erik had come towards him…now he was on this couch. He stood up shakily. His eyes roamed over to the source of the light.

_Dear Lysander,_

_In this moment I find myself drawn back to you. You wait in the shadows of my mind, as I enjoy the day- but inevitably the sun sets- and how terrible a sunset it was tonight! You steal in with the night, the devil on my shoulder, to say "Ah, but the sun will come again!" Not this time, my brother,_

"Erik…"

Erik paused, pen wavering a quarter-inch above the paper. A black full mask covered his whole face, and the light from the lamp caused his yellow eyes to glow. He almost seemed to be half melded with the darkness, as he sat there regarding Rahim.

"Why are you here, Daroga?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing in New York. What was all of that?"

"The end of a ill-fated love-triangle."

"Where are your parents?" Rahim looked around.

"In their graves." Erik said flatly.

Rahim walked around the couch to stand in front of Erik.

"Oh…Erik-"

"Don't say it!"

"What has become of you?"

"I am a creepy masked man who goes around stealing girls to deflower. Leave me to my depravity!" He turned back to what he was writing.

_the sun has fled with her lover_______

Erik's pen left a line trailing across the paper as Rahim ripped it out from under him. Erik tensed up in his chair, looking ready to stab someone with his pen.

"What are you writing? It had better not be your will."

He turned around to hold it up to the light, Erik stood up, but Rahim stepped away.

"Give it back if you care for your health." Erik was twice as intimidating without facial expressions. Rahim could hear the threat in his voice. He trembled.

"Is it a love letter?" Rahim gasped mockingly, eyes widening. He had no idea where he had gotten such insolence. Maybe with Erik going to the brink, he had been pulled there as well.

Erik snatched the paper from him and growled.

"Stop trying to make light of this. It is not one of those moments!" He sat down at the desk again. "Why don't you go back to being unconscious for the rest of the night, before I inflict it on you."

"Nope." Erik turned around in his chair and his glowing eyes narrowed. Rahim went back around the couch, "Kidding, just kidding."

"Go upstairs, and pick a room, any room. Sleep there, I'll drive you to the airport tomorrow."

Rahim sighed, and shook his head to clear away all of the alien smart-ass remarks floating in his brain. Was it a result of the mid-night hour?

"Seriously. Talk to me, Erik. I want to know what happened. I want to help you."

"Goodnight."

Rahim turned tail and left the room, but as Erik turned back to his writing, he peeked back in and lingered in the doorway. The light barely separated him from the darkness of the room. He watched Erik's hand slowly move across the page, carefully forming each letter. Erik paused, and Rahim ducked back into the entrance hall. Then he peered carefully back in, and jolted a little. Erik had removed his mask, and set it down on the table, the soft fabric collapsing upon itself and loosing all shape on the desktop. This was the third time Rahim had glimpsed his face, and though it still shocked him, it was more due to the effect of the light upon the macabre features. Erik continued his writing, taking out a fresh slip of paper and starting over.

_Dear Lysander,_

_In this moment I find myself drawn back to you. You wait in the shadows of my mind, as I enjoy the day- but inevitably the sun sets- and how terrible a sunset it was tonight! You steal in with the night, the devil on my shoulder, to say "Ah, but the sun will come again!" Not this time, my brother, the sun has fled with her lover. I don't expect to see her again. I thought that when you told me to stay away from Christine, I thought that you were being controlling and just couldn't stand to see my attention drawn away from you. But now I see that your warnings were all correct. I was wrong- are you pleased? You had my best interests at heart, but blinded by love I couldn't see it. But I have not stopped loving her. I am afraid I never will. I don't think I have the strength to continue with a life without her Lysander. Never had anyone brought such delight into my little world…this may be…my last letter. For a long time. Or forever. It depends how I get along without her. So I say to you, goodbye my dear, dastardly brother._

_E.D._

***

Erik had remained asleep the whole day, so Rahim was still there when he awoke in the evening. Rahim was not alarmed by his sleeping, but when Erik walked right by him, mask-less, to the kitchen where he proceeded to pour cereal into a glass and tried to drink it…he was concerned.

"This isn't scotch!" Erik cried out indignantly, after spilling the cereal all over the floor from his previous attempt at drinking it.

Rahim gingerly took the glass away from him, and placed it in the sink.

"No, it's bran cereal Erik. Where is your broom?"

Erik stared at his empty hand.

"You're staring in the wrong place if it's a broom you want. Over between the fridge and the wall. Erik is going to find his scotch now." Erik then looked at him, noticing him for the first time. "What are you doing here, Daroga?"

"I have been sent here by divine intervention to care for your conscious and the fate of your soul." Rahim said, in as serious of a voice as he could muster.

He had to turn to get the broom as a tiny smile broke onto his face.

"Oh, okay."

Rahim stopped, and spun around, broom in hand.

"No sarcasm?" He followed Erik around the kitchen counter to the living room, both of their feet crunching on bran cereal. Erik flopped down on the couch, staring off into space. "Who the hell is this girl you're so worked up after?"

No response.

"Hello?" he shouted.

Rahim made to smack Erik with the broom, who caught the end of the shaft with his hand.

"Don't talk about things you know nothing of."

"Then _enlighten _me." Erik scowled. "Please, in all seriousness. I need to know."

"Why are you waving my broom about, have you become my house wife?"

Rahim froze, then stared at the broom, and Erik. He stood up straight, feet together, and wagged a finger, as if he were admonishing a small boy.

"Until you can take care of yourself, yes. Call me Mrs. and I'll beat you with a pan." Rahim turned and went towards the kitchen, but looked back when he thought he heard a suppressed guffaw.

Erik was grinning, and clearly struggling not to laugh, body tensing into a sitting position on the couch.. This impression was added to by the perpetual redness of Erik's muscled lack-of-a-face.

"_Why_…" Erik made an odd noise, deeper than a snort, "are you walking like that?" The end of the question exploded into hearty laughter.

"Like what?" Rahim stood, broom held behind his back, toes pointed inward.

Erik was still laughing at him, "I'm sorry…" another outburst. "Your walk wasn't that funny…" a chuckle "it just…started an… outburst." He sighed, slapping his hands down over his knee-caps. "I just realized you walk rather stiffly, but your hips…ever so slightly…_sway_." Erik saw the horrified look an Rahim's face, so he added quickly "It's funny because it reminds me of this teacher at school-"

"You think I walk like a girl!"

"No-"

"I'm going to go sweep now." Rahim strutted back to the kitchen, wielding the broom like he was going to run _someone_ through with it.

Erik leaned back into the cushions, watching Rahim attack the floor. The grin disappeared from his face gradually, and he resumed looking into the space before him.

Rahim looked over, and saw Erik with his catatonic expression again. He frowned. He had managed to make Erik laugh (at the expense of his ego, but it was a worthy cause), which was a good sign. He hoped Erik was merely being dramatic and this girl had not meant as much as he claimed. He had to try harder! Be more creative, weirder, anything to draw Erik away from himself.

***

_The sun shone in through the floor length windows, and she glided across the marble floor to stand by his side. He sat at the ebony grand piano, her tutor, her friend. Her cue was coming up, and she sang obediently. Her voice flowed from her effortlessly, soaring to wonderful notes. Was she really singing? She always wondered when she was with him._

_Erik's handsome, boyish face looked at her and smiled gently. Very good. She felt the compliment, rather than heard, even though she watched his lips move. Then his voice came in, and hers fell away, overwhelmed by his richness. His hands were moving down the keys, the notes going deeper._

_What were they singing? _

_Desdemona, from Othello. _

_The music throbbed, his voice full of hurt. He stood up, face suddenly blacked out by shadow. She looked at the windows, when did the curtains close? The room had become far darker. The music kept playing, though Erik no longer touched the keys. Christine backed away. She heard her voice join his, though her mouth was clenched shut with mounting dread. Her voice was pleading, his accusing. _

_She turned around to run, but gasped as she found herself facing a stone wall. Her hands felt wet, and she realized she was holding something, pliable, moist, rubbery. It was sickenly familiar, and her gut knotted up as she lifted her hands…her head felt faint as she held it in both hands, spreading it out to see what it was. Her being froze in terror- a face! Erik's face._

_His yellow eyes stared at her, and the mouth grinned, lined with white teeth, each pointed and sharp. Her hands trembled, and the face slipped from her hands, turning into black silk. Her hands were coated in blood, and she stepped back, looking at the fronts and backs repeatedly. _

_What insanity was this?_

_She stepped back, and hit something harder than air, but softer than stone. She spun around, and two clawed, twisted hands grasped her. Simultaneously the scent of decay flooded towards her. Then she looked up- into Erik's true face. His eye sockets were bottomless pits, and his horrid grin a black, empty space between ravaged lips. _

Raoul was shaking her.

"Christine! Christine!"

She realized she was screaming, and she ceased…only to weep. Raoul held her tightly and she could feel him crying too. It had been a week since they had run from Erik, but it felt they were living inside of that moment of horror, completely at the mercy of a man mad with love. Christine had moved into Raoul's apartment in uptown New York. Raoul had only suffered mild insomnia, but Christine would be plunged into a nightmare realm every time she closed her eyes for more than a few minutes.

"Horror…horror…horror!" Christine said amidst her soft sobs, and her words echoed faintly in the room, repeating her lament.

Raoul ran his hands through her long golden hair, and she calmed down under this soothing motion.

"We can still go to the police, press charges."

"No, no." She murmured into his chest.

"In prison he wont bother us, and neither of us will be able to rest until we have that kind of certainty!"

"No, he promised he would never come back. He was sincere."

"Then why do you sit up in bed and scream, clawing at the air each night? We live in constant fear, you can't ignore that."

Christine looked up, parting from his embrace. He sighed, hand resting on her shoulder.

"I cant do it."

"Don't you hate him? Don't you hate him for making you so afraid?"

"No!" She stood up, and looked around listlessly, "That is the thing-I am terrified of him, but I don't hate him! I cant."

"Well," he stood up also, and moved to his closet, flipping disinterestedly through his shirts. "If you don't hate him, then what feeling _does_ he inspire?"

Christine looked over at Raoul, the way he had asked that…

"Raoul! You aren't suggesting…!"

Raoul pulled off a crisp, green shirt off of a hanger. He turned to her, putting it on and buttoning it up. It went along quite well with his shoulder-length blonde hair.

"If you have feelings for him, I need to know about it." he said haughtily.

"Raoul- I pity him- from the bottom of my soul!"

Christine was going through her clothes, and pulled out a blue sundress, and pulled it on. Raoul was pulling on a pair of slacks.

"That's a whole lot of pity to have for a creep like him."

"And he gave me the confidence to pursue my dreams. I cant send him to prison, what sort of gratitude would that be?" She ran began to brush her hair, Raoul was fully dressed. "He was my teacher once, my friend, you know. I try to remember the happy times."

"You are too kind, sweetheart_, _you whitewash the past for the sake of his better qualities."

He walked out of the bedroom, and Christine followed, slipping on her sandals. They went to the kitchen.

"I just think that filing this with the police isn't necessary."

"Just remember, even though you don't hate him- I do, and I will continue to do so until I can see you sleep peacefully through the night."

Christine sighed, and pulled out the eggs, and milk. Raoul pulled out bowls, a pan, and threw on his apron. He was the cook in the house.

"I just want to pretend this didn't happen."

"Me too."

They looked at one another. Then they leaned in and kissed, she holding an egg, him a spatula, reaching behind him to turn on the stovetop.

***

"WHAT?"

Lysander read his brother's letter again.

And then again.

He stood up abruptly, his chair grating against the linoleum floor, and knocking over another patient who had been ambling by behind him. He rushed to his room and practically ripped open the desk drawer. He slapped the letter on top of the desk and whisked out a blank sheet and a pen. He stood there, pen poised to write.

The door was wide open behind him.

He stared at the letter, then at his own paper- finally deciding it was useless. He threw the pen down, and it bounced noisily off of the desk and onto the floor. He groaned out loud to the empty room. He wanted to write, use his words to lure Erik back to him, to keep him from doing the incredibly idiotic thing he hinted at. Erik could be dead already. No, no, not his Erik. But he just might never write again, and leave his poor, unhappy brother alone here. No- he would never abandon him…but then there was that _girl_. Christine.

She was behind this, surely. He had been preparing all of these years for the possibility that Erik might need him out there in the world- or if he tried abandoning him. He looked at his walls, three were entirely covered with Erik's letters to him, which he had pinned up over the years. The fourth wall was a fourth covered, and had Lysander's drawings. Of Erik, mostly. Illustrating things he had written about in his letters, his descriptions of people, places, events. It was inspiring just to look at them.

There was no way Erik would leave him. It was that girl, whom he had drawn. He smiled at the little yellow cow with blue spots, purple music notes dancing about the red grass plains. There were pictures of other girls Erik had mentioned….a green spider, a red cat, a white little bunny. He had liked hearing about Clarissa, the bunny, always doting on Erik as he should be doted on.

Lysander shut his door, and began pulling down all of the drawings and letters. He stopped several times, to stare at the door with unnaturally wide eyes. Then he would resume his frantic pace. He folded each one carefully, arranging them inside of a briefcase. Inside he also threw in his cigarettes, and the four pound bag of pills he had gathered over his time there- he wasn't so separated from the world to know he could make a profit off of them. He did not want to leave, liking the degree of control he had attained over everyone there at the asylum branch of the hospital. But Erik needed him! But as he was packing, he began to feel more excited, and thought of the things he would do out in the world. He was going to New York! But there was a little business to be handled in Montana first…he shut the brief case, and hid it in the floor boards under his bed.

A grin spread on his face, curling at the ends, as he threw open the door to his room and strutted out to taunt his fellow undesirables one last time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_notes:  
Hello everyone! Here is the fabulous new chapter. Thanks again for reading this far, and for reviewing. Of course, I expect more :) Please, please, please review. I live for them. I require them for my mental health. And motivation. I cherish your opinions, critiques, and thoughts. I adore your rants, flames, and threats. It's wonderful to know you exist._

_  
You know what else? I really cant wait to start writing Lysander scenes. :D Ironically, in this story, he is my favorite to write._

_Ciao till next time, and thank you for your patience._


	8. Just Getting Started

_The writing itch has returned, and hopefully will stick around long enough for me to finish both of the two fanfictions I'm working on before petering out again. It's good to be back!_

_My summer's been pretty good, and I spent the past month drawing, reading, and working on summer assignments- I hope you've all been well also._

Rahim hadn't been able to convince Erik to go back to school, and two months had passed since the incident. Erik said that he couldn't show his face after what he had done- almost done, Rahim would always point out. Now Erik spent most of the time around the house, reading.

It was morning, and Erik was reading a national paper out on the sprawling rooftop (which functioned much in the same way as a back porch), silk mask on. Rahim had taken over cooking…though he could only turn out barely decent meals, as he had only learned to cook meat and toast bread the one weekend his mom hadn't been home. Erik didn't complain, but then he didn't pay enough attention to the food to realize that he was eating the same thing over and over. Well, until today.

Rahim had been sitting for several minutes, looking around at the city, after bringing up coffee and hotdogs in buns. Erik bent the paper and peered over at his plate. He frowned, not that that was visible.

"Have I been eating nothing but hot dogs for the past two months?"

"Sometimes hamburgers."

"Daroga!" The paper was promptly folded and tossed on the round, glass table. "Is this all you know how to cook?"

"Cooking was never a man's responsibility in my house. And besides, I can also make coffee."

"So if you lived alone, with no woman to cook for you, you would eat hot dogs for the rest of your life?"

Erik stood.

"Why are you deciding to complain _now?"_

"I'll be cooking from now on." Erik went towards the door to go down and inside.

"You mean you could've been cooking this whole time!"

Rahim grabbed the two cups of coffee, taking them with him.

"Did you think I would've made it this far in school eating dead cow shoved between two pieces of bread?"

Walking past the dining room table, Erik tossed his mask onto it, going on into the kitchen. Erik dug out ingredients from his refrigerator, throwing out most of what he pulled out, complaining it had gone bad. Eventually he was cooking sliced sausage with chopped potatoes. Rahim wondered that he didn't think of cutting up the hotdogs in the same way…probably wouldn't taste the same.

"Since you care about what you're eating now, does this mean you'll stop hiding out here?"

"I'm not going back to that school. I've already requested to be sent to their sister school." Erik began seasoning the sausage and potatoes, the aroma making Rahim's stomach feel empty.

"Where?"

"Why, in France. Paris."

"What? You're going to go live in France? For how long?"

"If I like it there, probably forever." Erik was busy stirring around with a spatula, so he didn't look up. He may have said it in much the same way he may have commented on the weather. "There's just something about it…I feel drawn there. Never really liked it here in America anyways, nice as it is."

"I'll go with you."

"Nonsense, aren't you still in high school?"

"Yes…well…about that…"

Erik stopped what he was doing. Rahim could hear the oil in the pan simmer.

"Why did you come out here?" Erik said.

"Part of the reason _was_ because I was kicked out. Too many sick days…and I was part of a walk-out protest…"

"What did I used to say about getting involved in other's business?"

"Don't."

"Exactly. And I was talking about these idiots who go get high and listen to music, and call it _change_. Unless you were merely the coerced by a member of the fairer sex…" Rahim nodded. "So because you got yourself thrown out, your parents probably weren't pleased, so you decided to run out here-"

"But I did want to see you!" Rahim sat up, "As soon as I graduated I would've come out here anyways- and it's a good thing I was thrown out of school, and came when I did! I mean, tying a guy to a chair and keeping a girl prisoner in your house-"

Rahim paused, and watched Erik.

"My mother called this meal, 'dumplings', because she would dump it onto your plate…though clearly I know that actual dumplings are far different. But I thought it was the most amusing thing when I was younger."

"I didn't mean to bring it up."

Erik stopped to let the "dumplings" cook further.

"Of course you meant it, but not maliciously." He held out his hand, Rahim stared at it- then realized he was pointing to the second cup of coffee he had. Rahim handed it to him. "At that moment, there was no thought- only emotion, and when you only feel, you do very crazy things. I loved, and love her."

He tipped the glass, and drank it all, head tipping back. When he put down the glass, his face was cringing in disgust, and he visibly shuddered.

"Ugh…cold coffee." he said. "And too much sugar."

"Hey- it's not that bad!" Rahim was grinning.

"You're just doing this on purpose." Erik replied. "Watch out, because now I'm the one handling your food." He winked. He turned to get plates, but paused before the cupboard, and turned his head back. "Will you bring me my paper? It's on the roof."

When Rahim returned, the square table was set. He stood nearby, Erik not noticing him, as he pushed the potatoes and sausage onto the plates, mumbling the word "dump" repeatedly.

"Dump…dump…dumplings…dump…duh-roga!" Erik stared at him, shaking the last bit out, then walking quickly to the kitchen sink to fill the pan and let it sit.

Coming back he took the paper from Rahim, "Thank you-" then saw the silly grin on his face "Don't. Ask." Then he turned his back to him and sat down, unfolding the paper and fluffing it out. He hid behind it, a hand holding a fork coming around occasionally to stab a piece of sausage or potato.

Rahim sat, and ate it all in minutes. He watched Erik, who occasionally missed his target, and the fork would screech around on the plate, searching for prey.

"If you were looking at what you were doing, you wouldn't have to blindly search for your food."

The paper drooped to reveal Erik, who looked at his plate and captured the last of his meal. With a side of glaring, of course. Rahim rolled his eyes.

"More importantly," Erik said, putting down the fork, and turning the page he was looking at to Rahim, who leaned across the table. "It looks like someone has been having too much fun back in Montana."

"Erik- it says that a serial killer is on the loose!"

"Exactly, I imagine they're having a ball. I don't know about their victims though…"

"Do they know who it is?"

"Of course not. It says they have various clues, which is code for: the trail is cold, but we don't want the general public to freak out. They probably think it's a serial killer from the similar killing method."

"Does it say what that is?"

"It just says the bodies were maimed beyond recognition, some pieces missing entirely. Delightful."

"Cant you read something less gruesome, like how a fireman saved a liter of bunnies or something?"

"They even have the names of the victims, here, though they say some names are excluded for confidentiality-" Erik pointed, finger running down the list as he read them.

When he reached the bottom, he was quiet.

"Wow, twenty people! And that's just those listed!"

"Did you read the names?" Erik was still looking at the list.

"No, I counted them first-" Rahim read the names, and got down to five. "Erik, these are names of people we know?"

"That I knew." Erik looked at Rahim.

"Why would all the people you know be targets?"

"The people here, every single one I've mentioned in my letters, to my brother."

"But he's in the asylum."

"It cant be anyone else."

"Well, why would he suddenly decide to escape now?"

"I don't know…it seems he's essentially taken revenge on everyone who I spoke poorly of in my letters…or that he told me he didn't like. I didn't know that by writing down their names I was signing their death warrants! And he's obviously enjoying every second of his punishing…" Erik dropped the paper onto the table and slouched into his chair.

"I don't know why you've kept talking to him all of these years."

"He is my brother." Erik placed a hand over his face.

"I hate him."

Erik's fingers parted to allow him to glimpse Rahim, who was standing and pushing in his chair.

"He is my brother…"

"So, what of it? You think he cares for you? You think _he_ loves you? He's lower than dirt." Erik was quiet, so he continued. "He is no better than Christine. If you had to imprison her in your house, then she didn't know you're the best any women could hope for. She should've been begging to be allowed near your door. Why is it that you let yourself adore such worthless people? They don't care about you, and yet your entire mental state has been up-heaved by the two of them." Rahim took the paper and crumpled it up, and turned on the stove. "If your 'brother' has escaped and is killing," the paper caught fire, and he threw it in the sink, watching it burn. "then maybe he'll get caught and they'll kill him. Good riddance."

"Even so…Lysander is the only family I have. And this-" he lifted his hand from his face, so Rahim could see, and he put his hand on the arm of the chair. "ceased to matter long ago…and it has the tendency to drive away those who are superficial. It is a twisted blessing, Daroga."

"So it drove away Christine. You can't think otherwise."

"I'd rather say it was my violence…and lack of sanity."

Rahim ran water over the smoldering paper to put it out, scoffing.

"Lysander and Christine!" He walked out, to stand before Erik. "Forget them, you will be trapped here until you see them for what they are."

"Daroga-"

"When we go to France, everything here must be put behind us. My father used to always say that a woman was made to bear children as part of their gift of live, and that man was made to bear burdens of the world, but that to carry the past was the most miserable and heavy of them all- that's the burden that a man casts away, because he is stronger than things that have already happened and cant be changed."

"That's who he's after."

Erik sat up, gripping the chair arms.

"What?"

Erik stood, pausing before Rahim, then heading towards the stairs, and his room.

"Christine! Lysander is coming after Christine…"

"What makes you think that?"

Erik was in his room, looking for clothes, Rahim followed him up there.

"He's gone after everyone else that has done something bad- in his eyes- to me. And in my last letter I said she left me and that I wouldn't be writing to him any more."

"Obviously he didn't take kindly to that."

"I have to warn her, do something-"

"How is he supposed to find her anyways?"

"He found everyone else…but he could've gone through hospital records to get addresses as he escaped…" Rahim looked at him. "You don't know him like I do. And most of those listed were still living in our hometown."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure he didn't find Christine's address in there."

Erik pulled on a light coat, and opened a cabinet in the back of the closet- inside on delicate glass stands were a row of three synthetic faces.

"But he knows where I live, having my address to write to me."

He looked into the mirrored surface lining the back of the cabinet, and slid and pressed the skin into place, until it blended in with the rest of his skin to his satisfaction.

"You think he'll try to come here?!"

They exited, going down the stairs.

"No, he _will_ come here."

_thanks for reading my dearies, as always...  
your most humble and obedient servant,  
S.C._


	9. All of the Warnings

_I apologize for the LONG gap. Crazy to think I started this when I was 17, and am now 20. A lot has happened, and my view of the story has changed. I am eager to complete it, and expect it to take no more than five chapters. Thank you all for reading, its been a joy to write for you :)_

* * *

Raoul answered the door, much to Erik's surprise. However, Raoul was more surprised and slammed the door with a gasp.

"Chagny! I need to speak to you and Christine!" Erik called from outside. "It's serious!"

"I'll call the police if you dont get the hell out of here!" Raoul shouted back.

Christine appeared in the hall, wide eyed.

"W-who is that...?" She said, leaning against the wall.

"Her life is in danger. I have a brother- ugh, just let me in so I can explain."

Christine gasped.

"Erik!"

"What he says is true." Rahim spoke up. "Mr. De Chagny, I assure you that we come in concern of Miss Daae's safety."

Raoul opened the door, stepped out and closed it behind him. Christine reached up- "Wait!" He had a pocket knife open in his hand.

Erik and Rahim stepped back. Raoul seemed taken aback by Erik's perfectly human-looking face.

"Alright- what's this business about Christine being in danger? Get it out quick."

Erik stared at him. Raoul really did love Christine.

"Its my brother. He broke out of the hospital where he was being kept." Erik said, he handed Raoul the newspaper.

"Theyve reported a long string of murders, and they're all people that Ive mentioned to my brother when I wrote to him. I know he will target Christine and perhaps you as well."

Raoul gave him an incredulous look, but read through the article. His face turned grim.

"So, what are you proposing we do about it?" Raoul said. He noticed Rahim. "Arent you the stranger who ran into the house from the street? During..."

Rahim looked at the ground. Raoul glared at Erik, who sighed.

"Monsieur de Chagny, I was utterly beyond insane during that awful incident." Erik said. "No apology will ever be sufficient, but please trust that we have the common goal of Miss Daae's happiness and safety."

Raoul nodded.

"As for Rahim Sadegh," Erik gestured to Rahim. "He is a childhood friend, and came out in concern for me and happened upon my house with timing that perhaps was fortunate for all of us." Rahim nodded to Raoul, who returned the gesture. It wasnt company for shaking hands. "Firstly, I needed you and Christine to be aware of this danger. And if anything happens, if you even suspect anything is a-miss, please, I beg you to call me at once. If you must, my home is open, as much as you wish to never step foot there again, I imagine."

"How do I know youre not making up all of this story as some lure?"

"What kind of proof would it take? Whatever has passed between us, my goal was never to harm Christine. It is for her that I am here."

"I certainly hope you dont think youre going to get to see her."

Erik grimaced.

"Whether you believe me or not, I'll do whatever it takes to keep Lysander Drice away from her." Erik's voice became quiet. "And even you, since she loves you."

Erik handed him a slip of paper. Raoul took it and looked it over.

"I'll keep your number close by." Raoul said, stepping back to the door. "Is that all?"

"Do you plan on ever returning to Europe, Chagny?"

"Why?"

"It would ease my mind if you and Christine werent in the country. I know my brother's ability to find people does have a limit, and that he doesnt have the means to leave the states. I will stop him before he acquires such means."

"I'll think about it."

They stared at each other a moment. Raoul shivered.

"Goodnight, de Chagny. Please, be vigilant." Erik reluctantly stepped back.

"Indeed. Good-night." Raoul opened the door and slipped inside, muttering "Good riddance."

He heard Erik and Rahim walk off, and noticed Christine was sitting on the floor at the side of the door, head against the wall. She looked striken.

"Oh- it was him, it was really him..." She shook her head, tears on her face.

Raoul bent down and eased her to her feet. They embraced.

"He's gone now, _ma cherie_."

"Is it true, what he said about his brother? Are we in danger again?" Christine looked up at him.

He kissed her.

"No, darling." Raoul led her down the hall towards their room. "He's mad Christine, surely you cant doubt that. It seems to me he'll say and do anything to weasel his way to you. No shame, that fellow..." They crawled into the bed, and he held her against himself, stroking her hair. "Do not fear, lotte-dearest, even if what he says is so, I'll guard you, always."

* * *

"So what now?" Rahim said.

"I am certain he doesnt believe me. If I were him I would think I was full of shit too."

"Erik..." Rahim objected to his profanity.

"I am also certain Christine was listening through the door. She's too curious to not have been. At least she knows... but that wont be enough." Erik led them on a stroll around where Raoul and Christine lived, observing its characteristics. "Until Lysander actually shows up, it's hard to do anything concrete other than watch everywhere, and be prepared to strike before he does- if possible."

Rahim merely nodded.

"Are you going to contact the police?"

"I dont have much faith in them. They are already looking for him."

There were a lot of trees around the apartment complex, and the sunlight cut through the leaves.

"This is terrible."

"I know." Rahim said.

"I _mean_- look at all this." Erik gestured around them. "All this cover- even the parking lot only has a few light posts, it must be so dark in the night." He huffed. "Do the people who live here really think theyre safe?"

"They probably dont think about it." Rahim said.  
**  
**They began to walk away and back to the car. Erik had fallen quiet, and Rahim couldnt think of a thing to say. The car was chilled inside, but comfortable. Nondescript but a far cry from a cheap junk-car. Rahim stared out the window as Erik drove, watching the buildings flash by them, and the occasional pedestrian on the sidewalk. Some tall, some not so much, with long, girlish hair- or a man's shag.

"Erik, your life seems very lonely. Even when you lived back in Montana." Rahim said it just to say it. Erik snapped out of his dark reverie.

"Is that so?" He sighed. "So what of it...?"

"Why is it that you've never gotten close to anyone? In school you were popular, yet I never saw you hang out with anyone other than me..."

"Well, there's the issue with my face." Erik shrugged. "But then again- you dont mind...surely youre not the only one who wouldnt mind. But then perhaps you are."

"There must be something besides that. There are people who can look past that. At school, after that awful event- no one laughed about your face. They were sorry you were gone. They were confused and I didnt have anything to tell them. One girl told me a one of her cousins had a deformity, but didnt have a way to hide it. She said that it was really horrible what happened, but that you were still lucky."

"I dont appreciate pity."

"They liked you there! Even after you threw paint on them."

Erik let out a chuckle in spite of himself, then frowned right after.

"My face is more acceptable than being homosexual. Sad, sad. When there are such greater evils than an unconventional choice of partner..."

"What about in college- why not make friends?"

"Just developed a habit of hermit-ism, I suppose."

Rahim put his hand on Erik's shoulder.

"My friend, life is too short. Being without friends or family is no way to live."

Erik pulled up in front of his house.

"I know."

They walked up to the door and Erik paused in front of the door, and on a hunch he turned the knob without using his keys. The door opened.

"Rahim, what was the date on that newspaper?"

"It shouldve been today's paper...Erik?"

"You cant be serious." Erik pushed the door open, stepping back. "It's much too soon. Or is it?" He went down the steps, taking Rahim's arm to make him follow. They stared into the open door. "I gave Chagny the paper... Stay here." Erik ran over looking at the doors of several neighbors, and opening their mailboxes, if they had one, rather than a door flap. He walked back after checking three houses. "I cant even call Chagny for the dates...the phone is, obviously, in the house. Well- maybe the police just released the story to the press, or theyve reported it before, just not on the front page. And somehow I didnt notice..."

Erik had his hands on his hips and was staring in the ground, as if it was supposed to give him answers.

"We've got to go inside eventually." Rahim said. "We'll go back-to-back."

"Alright. Stay very close. If anything happens, let me jump into it."

They ran up the few stairs, and looked into the foyer. Standing back-to-back they entered walking somewhat sideways. They paused for Erik to shut the door. He cursed under his breath. Of all the times to not have a weapon.  
Erik felt the shiver go up Rahim's back. The house was silent, and they could hear the occasional car passing outside. Rahim looked up at the ceiling and the second floor, as they moved toward the living room.

"Maybe I should check upstairs, so he cant slip out while we're both down here." Rahim said.

"Absolutely not." Erik said, in a hushed tone. "No way in hell are you leaving my sight... I left someone alone once with him in the house." He paused, shaking his head. "Never again."

They reached the first threshold, Erik quickly look beyond to see if there was anyone hiding beyond the door way. Nothing. They enter the living room. Rahim stoops to view under the furniture, Erik shook the curtains, eager to get to the kitchen so he could grab a knife.

Into the kitchen, its the first thing he goes for. They both start to ease up.

"Maybe it's nothing." Rahim said.

"We'll see."

Throughout the rest of the house, upstairs, roof, closets, even the basement, they searched meticulously. Nothing. Later when evening fell, they looked again, still nothing.

"I insist we stay in the living room tonight."

"We cant live on guard constantly, Erik." Rahim said. "I know its serious... but... we searched the house twice. Everything is locked up. I'd like to sleep in my bed."

"Then Im going to be in your room too."

"Dont tell me youre going to stay up all night?"

"How can you sleep?_ Knowing?_" Erik fell into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, putting his head into his hands. "I dont want to sleep until he's dead."

Rahim stood beside him, patting his arm.

"Why dont you leave the country sooner? You were planning to anyway. You said yourself he's not likely to follow."  
"You mean, leave tonight? Dont talk crazy."

Rahim pulled the other chair up next to Erik and sat.

"If it'll put you at peace, maybe."

"Then who will look after Christine? She'll still be within reach."

"Monsieur de Chagny will look after her. He loves her, after all. He is the one she chose. You've got to let her go."  
"I dont want her to die because of me."

"Your brother is responsible for his own actions, and Monsieur de Chagny, and Christine are responsible for theirs. You warned them, that is enough. Place responsibility where it belongs."

"But I said I would do_ whatever it takes_ to keep him away from Christine. My_ word_, Daroga."

Rahim winced. He looked into Erik's yellow eyes. One corner of Rahim's mouth pulled down and he looked at the table. His eyes were watery, yet he was far from weeping. Erik sat up.

"All there is to do is wait then." Rahim said.

* * *

Erik stood and made them both tea before retiring to Rahim's room.

"If you wont sleep I wont either."

Erik raised a brow.

"I have spent days not sleeping before. I doubt you could stick out the night."

"I'll stand and pace the room all night if I must."

"Please, Daroga. Enough."

"No. Go to bed. Youre going to die early from all this paranoia."

"Well warranted paranoia."

Erik was sitting in a wooden chair beside Rahim's bed, Rahim was sitting at the end of his bed, arms and legs crossed.

"I can be stubborn too."

Erik rolled his eyes. He stood and locked the door, and placed the chair against the door underneath the knob. Then he turned to the window and locked that, pulling the curtains shut.

"Alright. Move over." He stood by the bed, expectant.

"Ah, just like when we were schoolmates." Rahim moved to the far side of the bed.

Erik picked up the knife from the nightstand.

"I'll lie in bed, but I hope you understand that I literally cannot bear to sleep." He took a pillow and made himself comfortable on the other half, his head on the opposite end from Rahim's.

"If you say so."

Rahim turned out the light. Somehow Erik fell asleep soon after the lights went out. He mustve been more tired than he thought.

* * *

Erik's eyes snapped open. It was the kind of waking up that happens because instinctively one senses something is wrong, or is about to be. He was so cautious that he looked around with his eyes first before moving so much as his head. Something was indeed wrong. He was in the basement.


End file.
